And when he had put on the borrowed ring he had drawn her eyes up to the blue tarn of his own.

Donal was killed! Perhaps the young chaplain had been killed too.

And she was being married to Lord Coombe who was an old man and did not stand close to her, whose hand scarcely held hers at all--but who was putting on a ring.
Her eyes--her hunted young doe's eyes--lifted themselves.

Lord Coombe met them and understood.

Strangely she knew he understood--that he knew what she was thinking about.