Had he dreamed?
Was it a wild hallucination--the bright gleam of happiness that had penetrated the darkness that lay about him at every step?
How yearningly the girl's eyes still inclined to yonder distant south.
"Let us say no more about it now, Rotha," he said huskily.

"If you wish it, we'll talk again on this matter--that is, I say, if you _wish_ it; if not, no matter." The young man was turning away.

Without moving the fixed determination of her gaze, Rotha said quietly,-- "Willy, I think perhaps I _do_ love you--perhaps--I don't know.

I remember he said that our hearts lay open before each other--" "Who said so, Rotha ?" There was another start of recovering consciousness.

Then the wide eyes looked full into his, and the tongue that would have spoken refused that instant to speak.