The crow was perched on the back of a chair near her. He had drawn one foot up in his feathers and closed his eyes.
Prudence held her pen in her hand and looked at Devil. Then she laughed slightly as she said, aloud, "We made an odd group, didn't we, Devil? No wonder the clerk stared. A drenched man and woman and a crow arriving at eleven o'clock at night, with no luggage.
"Will you go back to Savin Hill in the morning, Devil? As for me, I will never go back. How could I? And Rodney shall be happy. Oh, yes, he shall be happy; for I love him."
She put the pen to the paper; she wrote, "Dear Aunt Letitia," then her hand stopped. She sat looking forward; there was a beautiful light upon her face.
A clock struck somewhere in the building; it struck twelve. The girl roused herself and looked down at the paper before her.
"After all," she thought, "why should I write? How they will hate me! Let Rodney tell them what he chooses."
She walked about the room for a few moments. She tried to lie down on the couch, but she could not remain quiet. A fire of memory, and hope, and a strange, indefinite fear were in her heart. Her pulses beat so heavily it was out of the question to try to rest.
It seemed to Prudence that she recalled every word she had ever said to Carolyn Ffolliott. Plainest of all she remembered how she had promised not to try to win Rodney back to her. What a ridiculous promise! Could any one expect such a promise to be kept? Absurd!
Prudence walked about the room again. She supposed it would be morning sometime. Sometime the hour would strike when she and her lover would be on the ocean and beyond recall.
It was a strange thing that she could so clearly remember Carolyn's honest eyes when she had asked for that promise.