At the door with them the horror and despair of the morning were in wait for him, and laid hold upon him.
Hugh shuddered, and turned instinctively to Rachel.
She was holding out her hand to him.

He took it and held it tightly in his sudden fear and desolation.
"When shall I meet you again ?" he said, hoarsely.
A long look passed between them.

Hugh's tortured soul, full of passionate entreaty, leaped to his eyes.

Hers, sad and steadfast, met the appeal in his, and recognized it as a claim.

There was no surprise in her quiet face.
"I ride early in the Row," she said.