For the first time she knew that this had been no mere game she had been playing with Douglas Falloden.

Just as Falloden in his careless selfishness might prove to have broken Otto Radowitz's life, as a passionate child breaks a toy, so she had it in her power to break Falloden.
They had wandered down again, without knowing it, to the banks of the river, and were standing in the shelter of a group of young chestnuts, looking towards the hills, over which hung great thunder-clouds.
At last Constance held out her hand.
"Please go now," she said pleadingly.

"Send me word to-night.

But don't come.

Let's hope.