"No," she answered, vaguely.
He took her face between his hands as if to catch and concentrate the wandering spirit.
"Where is the old Val gone? I want her back."
The slow tears filled her eyes. "You mustn't mind, dear; she went away, I think, one of those days—"
"What days?"
"When, with all that pain, everything was made ready."
He dropped his hands, but she caught them. "I wish we could go away, too. But far, very far from here, where everything is new and strange."
"Oh, my dearest," he said, brokenly, "surely, surely, with so much at stake, we can readjust ourselves to the changed conditions."
She drew one hand across her eyes. "You call yourself weak," she said, "but it's no surprise to me to find how much stronger you are than I. You can make yourself face about, manfully enough."