"Do you start for London—soon?"
"To-night," nodded Barnabas.
"Sir," said she, after a pause, "I would thank you, if I could, for—for all that you have done for me."
"No, no," said Barnabas, hastily.
"Words are poor things, I know, but how else may I show my gratitude?"
And now it was Barnabas who was silent; but at last—
"There is a way," said he, staring at the finger-post.
"How—what way?"
"You might—kiss me—once, Cleone."
Now here she must needs steal a swift look at him, and thus she saw that he still stared at the ancient finger-post, but that his hands were tight clenched.