"Oh, if you only could take us both! It terrifies me to be left alone, surrounded with—"
"That is out of the question now. But when I come back, we will try and make this life of ours happier than it has been."
She looked at him—her great, mournful eyes widening with pain.
"Have you been very unhappy, then, Grantley," she faltered.
"Unhappy! I did not say that; but hereafter our bliss must be more perfect. We shall understand each other better."
"Shall we—shall we ever? Oh, Grantley, without love what perfect understanding can exist?"
Her fine eyes were flooded with tears; every feature in her face quivered with emotion.
A clock on the mantel-piece chimed out the hour of his departure. On the instant Dolf knocked at the door.
Elizabeth started up, trembling like a wounded bird that struggles away from a second shot.
"So soon! so soon!" she cried, wringing her hands. "I had so much to ask; everything to say, and now there is no time."