He was seeing another picture, of themselves walking in a park under great trees that lifted their shivering glooms to the sky. “Everything,” she had said, “is all right now.” What mockery! And he felt, again, forces that he did not understand hurling themselves on his heart crushing and stunning it....
“We were afraid of life,” he said. “We were cowards. Despise me, too.”
“Felix!” she cried, “you did care!... I never knew!”
2
They looked into the dying embers of the fire.
His mind, as by a shadowy wing, was touched with a faint regret ... for what?... for an old dream, beautiful in its way—a dream of freedom; but a dream only—and worthy only the farewell tribute of a faint and shadowy regret.
“What shall we do?” she whispered.
“Let’s build our house, Rose-Ann. Will you?”
“Yes.”
THE END