She rose to her feet. Her heart was beating so that her breath came with difficulty and a mist was before her eyes. "You will hand down the decision." It was a statement, not a question.
"God help me—I must!"
"When?"
"A week from to-day, as I have announced."
She leaned and put her arm about his neck, the key of the drawer still clenched in her cold hand, and kissed him on the forehead. Even in that numb moment she felt a certain pride that he, who had known a passing weakness, was yet, in this crucial moment, so strong.
"You must go back to bed now," he said, heavily. "You are going to your aunt's to-morrow, aren't you?"
She nodded, her cheek still against his. "I shall take the early train, before you are up. But I shall be back next day."
She withdrew her arms. "Good night," she half-whispered, then looked at the locked drawer. "You will not—you will not—"
"I promise," he said.
"Whatever happens?"