She laid her left hand in it. Hers was quite cold, but she shivered as she touched him. "Will you come back to me ever?" she asked.
He shook his head.
"Never?"
"Never, never!"
"If you want me, you must say," she went on impassively. "It won't matter what I'm doing—I mean if I'm married, or anything. If you want me, I'll come to you. But you must say. Love ... ah! you don't know what it means!"
He left her with a pressure of the hand, and she caught a glimpse of him as he groped his way towards the stairs. But she did not stir, nor try to stop him.
IX
Caragh sat with his back to the saloon skylight, watching the cloud-shadows racing over the soft green Irish coast.
Between him and it was a heaving space of dark blue water, crested here and there with gleaming white.