So they walked slowly back towards the long, low house whose faint lights flickered through the trees.

She leaned a little upon him, the hand which she had passed through his arm was clasped in his.

Only the wind spoke.

When at last they were en the terraces she drew a long breath.
"Dear friend," she said softly, "see how I trust you.

I leave in your keeping the most precious few minutes of my life." "This is to be the end, then ?" he faltered.
"It is not we who have decided that," she answered.