But don't you kill one of my family, I--Oh, I beg of you go as far as you dare to avoid that!" I could find no voice to answer her, and for a long moment we were locked in an embrace, breast to breast and lips to lips, an embrace of sweet pain.
Then she broke away, called a low, hurried good-by, and stole like a shadow into the darkness.
An hour later I lay in the open starlight among the stones and brush, out where Steele and I always met.

He lay there with me, but while I looked up at the stars he had his face covered with his hands.

For I had given him my proofs of the guilt of Diane Sampson's father.
Steele had made one comment: "I wish to God I'd sent for some fool who'd have bungled the job!" This was a compliment to me, but it showed what a sad pass Steele had come to.

My regret was that I had no sympathy to offer him.

I failed him there.