strength, all the power to do anything but simply stand and look at him
had gone out of her. But even so, she was conscious--dimly but yet
conscious--of a feeling of relief that they had come at last close to
the end of the heath, that there was the faint glow of lights dimly
observable through the enfolding mist, and that there was the rumble of
wheels, the pulse of life, the law-guarded paths of the city's streets
beyond.

CHAPTER III

She could not herself have been more conscious of that feeling of relief
than he was of its coming. It spoke to him in the swift glance she gave
toward those distant, fog-blurred lights, in the white, drained face of
her, in the shrinking backward movement of her body when he spoke again;
and something within him voiced "the exceeding bitter cry."

"I am not sure that I even hoped you would take the revelation in any
other way than this," he said. "A hawk--even a tamed one--must be a
thing of terror in the eyes of a dove. Still, I am not sorry that I have
made the confession, Miss Lorne. When the worst has been told, a burden
rolls away."

"Yes," she acquiesced faintly, finding her voice; but finding it only to
lose it again. "But that you--that _you_...." And was faint and very
still again.

"Shall we go on? It isn't more than fifty paces to the road; and you may
rely upon finding a taxicab there. Would you like me to show you the
way?"

"Yes, please. I--oh, don't think me unsympathetic, unkind, severe. It is
such a shock; it is all so horrible--I mean--that is.... Let me get used
to it. I shall never tell, of course--no, never! Now, please, may we not
walk faster? I am very, very late as it is; and they will be worrying at
home."

They did walk faster, and in a minute more were at the common's end.
Cleek stopped and again lifted his hat.

"We will part here, Miss Lorne," he said. "I won't force my company on
you any further. From here, you are quite beyond all danger, and I am
sure you would rather I left you to find a taxi for yourself. Good
night." He did not even offer to put out his hand. "May I say again,
that I am not sorry I told you? Nor did I ever expect you would, take it
other than like this. It is only natural. Try to forgive me; or, at the
least, believe that I have not tried to keep your friendship by a lie,
or to atone in seeming only. Good night."

He gave her no chance to reply, no time to say one single word. Deep
wounds require time in which to