A chill crept slowly over Eve. “Was it—wasn’t it difficult to arrange for so long an absence?”
“As Hollis would phrase it, ‘You bet it was!’” answered Paul, laughing. “I shall come back without a cent in either pocket; but I’ve been centless before—I’m not terrified.”
“If you would only take some of mine!”
“You will have Cicely. We shall both have our hands full.”
She looked up at him more happily; they were to be associated together in one way, then, after all. But a vision followed, a realization of the blankness that was to come. Less than two weeks and he would be gone!
“When the journey is over, shall you bring Ferdie to Port aux Pins?”
“That depends. On the whole, I think not; Ferdie would hate the place; it’s comical what tastes he has—that boy! My idea is that he will do better in South America; he has already made a beginning there, and likes the life. This time he can take Cicely with him, and that will steady him; he will go to housekeeping, he will be a family man.” And Paul smiled; to him, Ferdie was still the lad of fifteen years before.
But in Eve’s mind rose a recollection of the light of a candle far down a narrow road. “Oh, don’t let her go with him! Don’t!”
Paul stopped. “You are sometimes so frightened, I have noticed that. And yet you are no coward. What happened—really? What did you do?”
She could not speak.