He hesitated a moment, then with that modest, half-shy air with which he ever approached things, and which showed so pleasingly on his splendour, he half held out his hand.
"You will always come to me—for anything, Marius?" he said. "I have done no good to you or to any, God knows; but since there are only two of us in the world—well, all this will be forgotten a year hence, but do not forget I am always there."
He paled a little as he spoke, and a look of vast unhappiness troubled his deep eyes. Marius caught his hand and kissed it.
"My lord, believe me, though I cannot speak," he choked and turned away.
Rose Lyndwood leant against the back of the chair from which he had risen.
"Good-night," he said.
"Good-night, my lord; I shall not see you in the morning—there is no more to be said?"
"Nothing."
"Good-night," this from the door.