know. You would be singled out, pointed
at, as the wife of a man who was chucked out of the Service. There would
be no place in the world for you. You would be ostracized--because you
were my wife."

"I shouldn't care," she urged. "Surely I can bear--what you have borne?
. . . I shouldn't mind--anything--so long as we were together."

He drew her close to him, his lips against her hair.

"Beloved!" he said, a great wonder in his voice. "Oh! Little _brave_
thing! What have I ever done that you should love me like that?"

Sara winked away a tear, and a rather tremulous smile hovered round her
mouth.

"I don't know, I'm sure," she acknowledged a little shakily. "But I do.
Garth, you _will_ marry me?"

He lifted his bent head, his eyes gazing straight ahead of him, as
though envisioning the lonely future and defying it.

"No," he said resolutely. "No. God helping me, I will never marry you,
Sara. I have--no right to marry. It could only bring you misery. Dear,
I must shield you, even from yourself--from your own big, generous
impulses which would let you join your life to mine. . . . Love is
denied to us--denied through my own act of long ago. But if you'll give
me friendship. . . ." She could sense the sudden passionate entreaty
behind the words. "Sara! Friendship is worth while--such friendship
as ours would be! Are you brave enough, strong enough, to give me
that--since I may not ask for more?"

There was a long silence, while Sara lay very still against his breast,
her face hidden.

In that silence, her spirit met and faced the ultimate issue--for there
was that in Garth's voice which told her that his decision not to marry
her was immutable. Could she--oh God!--could she give him what he asked?
Give only part to the man to whom she longed to give all that a woman
has to give? It would be far easier to go away--to put him out of her
life for ever.

And yet--he asked this of her! He needed something that she could still
give--the comradeship which was all that they two might ever know of
love. . . .

When at last she raised her face to his, it was ashen, but her small
chin was out-thrust, her eyes were like stars, and the grip of her slim
hands on his shoulders was as iron.

"I'm strong enough to give you anything that you want," she said
quietly.

She had made the supreme sacrifice; she was ready to be his friend.

A sad and wistful gravity hung about their parting. Their lips met and
clung togeth