"It would be heaven for me," she remarked.
"So you say now. All I ask you to do is to trust implicitly in me and wait."
"How long?" she gasped.
"I can't say for certain. It all depends."
"On what?"
"Circumstances."
She did not speak for some moments, the while she repressed an impulse to throw herself at his feet, and implore him to reconsider his indefinite promise.
"Will you pour me out a little whisky?" she said presently.
"What about your face? It might make it throb."
"I'll chance that."