"Never!"
He felt her yield to him at that, and under his eyes, close under his lips, was her face at last. But as they kissed they heard the handle of the door turn, and drew apart quickly, her hand lingering in his under the fold of her dress.
A nurse looked in, dressed in the white uniform and pointed cap of the hospital. Amherst fancied that she smiled a little as she saw them.
"Miss Brent—the doctor wants you to come right up and give the morphine."
The door shut again as Justine rose to her feet. Amherst remained seated—he had made no motion to retain her hand as it slipped from him.
"I'm coming," she called out to the retreating nurse; then she turned slowly and saw her husband's face.
"I must go," she said in a low tone.
Her eyes met his for a moment; but he looked away again as he stood up and reached for his hat.
"Tomorrow, then——" he said, without attempting to detain her.
"Tomorrow?"