"I shall not forget them," said Linforth, and there was no longer any levity in his tones. He spoke gravely, and more than gravely. There was a note of anxiety, as though he were troubled.
"I promise," he said.
"Thank you," said Violet simply; "for I know that you will keep the promise."
"Yes, but you speak"—and the note of trouble was still more audible in Linforth's voice—"you speak as if you and I were going to part to-morrow morning for the rest of our lives."
"No," Violet cried quickly and rather sharply. Then she moved on a step or two.
"I interrupted you," she said. "You were saying that when I spoke about my window, although you were troubled on my account—"
"I felt at the same time some relief," Linforth continued.
"Relief?" she asked.
"Yes; for on my return from Ajmere this morning I noticed a change in you." He felt at once Violet's hand shake upon his arm as she started; but she did not interrupt him by a word.
"I noticed it at once when we met for the first time since we had talked together in the garden, for the first time since your hands had lain in mine and your lips touched mine. And afterwards it was still there."