With a low cry Shere All broke in upon her words.

He leaned forward, with his hands covering his face.
"Yes," he whispered, "there's the road--there's the road." A passion of self-reproach shook him.

Not for nothing had Linforth been his friend.

"I feel a traitor," he cried.

"For ten years we have talked of that road, planned it, and made it in thought, poring over the maps.