“If I can be of any use to you,” he suggested softly, “in any fresh start you may make in life, you have only to command me.”
She kept her face averted from him. There was land in sight, and she seemed much interested in it.
“What are you going to do in America?”
Mr. Sabin looked out across the sea, and he repeated her question to himself. What was he going to do in this great, strange land, whose ways were not his ways, and whose sympathies lay so far apart from his?
“I cannot tell,” he murmured. “I have come here for safety. I have no country nor any friends. This is the land of my exile.”
A soft, white hand touched his for a moment. He looked into her face, and saw there an emotion which surprised him.
“It is my exile too,” she said. “I shall never dare to return. I have no wish to return.”
“But your friends?” Mr. Sabin commenced. “Your family?”
“I have no family.”