Harry shook his head. “She was yours before she was mine.”
He slipped out. His footsteps faded down the stairs.
In the house there was no sound—only her weary sighing. Everything was hushed and shuttered. Outside waves dragged against the sand and broke in long sparkling ripples. A pulley creaked as a fisherman hoisted sail. Across the bay came the panting of the steamer from Lerici. It drew in against the pier; boys’ laughter sounded and splashing as they dived for money. Again the panting, wandering off into the distance. It rounded the headland.
441
Silence——. So much of life in the world and none to spare for her! And this had come at a time when her father was ill, so that neither he nor her mother could come to her.
She threw back the sheet which was spread above her slender body. Her hand groped out. “Peter, Peterkins, you hav’n’t left me?”
“I’ll never leave you, and when you’re better——.”
Again the incredulous smile! He’ could get no further. Her voice, quite near to him, reached him remotely. “If I should die—-.”
He spoke quickly. “You’re not going to.”
“But dearest, if I should——. You won’t be bitter—won’t break your heart about me? If you did, I should know. I shouldn’t be happy. Promise that you’ll still trust God and be happy.”