e had loved with a
beautiful and sacred love.

"I won't come if you'd rather I didn't," he said. "I only looked in to
see if you were awake. I thought if you were, and if you could stand it,
it would be best to--talk about what's to be done." He spoke quietly,
standing at the door. He was dressed for the day, as if nothing had
happened; and Annesley felt dimly resentful because he looked bathed and
well-groomed, his black hair smooth and carefully brushed; altogether his
usual self, except that he was pale and grave.

"You had better come in, I suppose," the girl replied, grudgingly. "I was
thinking, too, that we must talk. Let us--get it over."

"You haven't been to bed, I see," he said, his eyes lingering on her
sadly. It flashed through Annesley's mind that it was as if he were
looking for the last time at the sweetness and happiness of life. But
her heart did not soften. It was his fault that there was no longer any
happiness or sweetness left in their lives.

"No, I haven't been to bed," she returned. "But it doesn't matter. I am
not ill. Please let us not waste time in discussing me. There are other
things."

"Yes, there are other things," he agreed. "But we'll not begin to talk of
them until you have got into bed and covered yourself up. You're as white
as marble."

"I don't want----" she began; but he cut her short.

"What will Parker think if she finds your bed hasn't been slept in?"

"Oh, very well!" Annesley assented, impatiently. "I must get used to
tricks!"

"Perhaps not," said Knight. "I've been thinking of ways and means. Have
you? Because if there's anything you feel you would like to do, you've
only to tell me."

"I haven't been able to think," she confessed.

"Well, then, I'll tell you what I've thought."

Annesley had now crept into bed; and before she could protest Knight had
carefully covered her with the down quilt. Having done this, he drew a
chair near, yet not too near, and sat down. It was as if he recognized
her right to keep him at a distance.

"You said last night," he began, "that you didn't mean to denounce me. If
you've changed your mind, I shan't blame you; I deserve it. All I ask is
that you grant me time to warn certain persons who would go down if I
went down, and give them time to make a bolt. Madalena de Santiago is
one. I'm pretty sure that out of spite she put Ruthven Smith on to
looking for the diamond, but I don't want to punish her. Evidently
she--or whoever it