"Mrs. Keith will mind," said Millicent. "I'm sure she was very friendly and gave you her good wishes."
Blake looked at her with a smile. "Somehow they didn't seem enough. I think I wanted yours."
She coloured, but met his glance. "Then," she said, "you have them. I haven't forgotten what happened one evening in London, and I wish you a safe journey and success."
"Thank you," he answered with feeling. "It will be something to remember that you have wished me well." Then as his eyes rested upon her he forgot that he was a marked man. She looked very fresh and desirable; there was a hint of regret and pity in her face and a trace of shyness in her manner. "I suppose I can't ask you to think of me now and then; it would be too much," he went on. "But won't you give me something of yours, some trifle to keep as a memento."
Millicent hesitated and then took a tiny bunch of flowers from the lace at the neck of her white dress. "Will these do?" she asked, and added with a smile: "They won't last very long."
"They will last a long time, well taken care of, but what you said had a sting. Did you mean that you wouldn't give me anything more enduring?"
"No," she said shyly, "not that altogether. I think I meant that they would last as long as you might care to remember our acquaintance."
Blake bowed. "My memory's good. When I come back I will show you your gift as a token."
"But I shall be in England then."
"I bore that in mind. It is not very far off, and I'm a wanderer."