"If I could only forget them!" groaned the other, burying his face in his hands. There was a long silence. In the last few years growing despair and the inaction that is the inevitable outgrowth of the conviction of failure had succeeded the constantly reviving hope that had fed the energy of the search. Their talks, recently, had been bitter reminiscences instead of optimistic plans. At last Floriot raised his head and spoke in a low voice.
"I think sometimes that she must be dead or we should have found her!" he said. Noel, staring at the ground between his feet, did not answer at once; then:
"Perhaps!" he said in the same low tone. "And perhaps that is the best thing that could have happened!"
The other understood his meaning and shuddered. There was another pause and then Floriot spoke of the matter that lay heaviest on his mind.
"I have never—dared yet—to tell Raymond—the truth about his mother," he said, unsteadily; "but I have to now!"
Noel stared at his friend in amazement.
"Tell Raymond!" he exclaimed, "Why?"
"He wants to marry and—and—I must tell him the truth!"
There was a smothered exclamation from Noel as he grasped the situation. He was silent a few moments and then he asked with meaning emphasis:
"Will you tell him the whole truth?"