They were both suffering cruelly—but John was going back to fight. She must have some explanation with him which could make him return to France at peace in a measure. It was cowardly to shirk telling him the truth, and she could not let him go again into danger with this black shadow between them.
He looked up at her and rose from his chair.
"You play so beautifully," he said hastily. "You take one out of oneself. Now it is late and the day has been long. Let us go to bed, dearest child."
Amaryllis stiffened suddenly—the moment that she dreaded had come.
"I would rather that you slept in your dressing-room. I have ordered that to be prepared—"
He looked at her startled—and then he took her hand.
"Amaryllis—tell me everything. Why are you so changed?"
"I'm trying not to be, John."
"You are trying—that proves that you are, if you must try. Please tell me what this means."
She endeavoured to remain calm and not become unhinged.