"Conny," in a half whisper, "is he gone?"
"I don't know about that; he said something about remaining here for a time."
"Oh!" ejaculated Sybil, and then, under her breath, "My God!"
Constance shuddered as she looked upon the shivering figure before her, the wavering eyes, the hands clenching and unclenching themselves; she found conversation difficult, and began to wonder how she could avoid subjects that brought painful thoughts or suggestions. But suddenly a change came over Sybil; sitting erect, she looked fixedly at her friend, and asked:
"Conny, has he tormented you of late?"
"He! Sybil; you mean—"
"I mean my curse! has he dared to annoy you? He has sworn that he will be accepted and recognized as your friend."
Constance laughed a short, sarcastic laugh.
"Be at rest, Sybil; he never will."
"No;" with a strange dropping of the voice. "He never will!"