“I have been thinking of the days that are gone, Horace—you have always been very gentle with me.... And—I have been thinking of the days that are to come——”
Her lips trembled; and a tear stole down her cheek.
Horace nodded:
“Yes, Babette—and of the days to come!”
She sighed:
“I have been wondering whether you will think of me, Horace—as the days pass. I have been wondering—wondering—wondering——”
“Yes, Babette?”
“But why should I tell you?”
“Tell me, Babette,” he said; and he stroked her hair, gazing at her hungrily.
She uttered a little sob.