"That's true, Gerty," he said in a softened tone, turning back and throwing an arm about her waist; "let's kiss and be friends."
"Harry," she whispered, clinging to him, "do you know anything of—of him?"
"No; and don't want to!" he answered savagely. "You're not fool enough to care for him now?"
"Women are fools," was all she said in reply.
And they parted; he disappearing in the direction of the road, she creeping back to the house, and regaining the shelter of her room; fortunately without meeting any one on the way.
She was tired, oh, so tired! her strength scarcely sufficient to bring her to the desired haven; but even there she could not rest. She did not undress or lie down, but crouched beside the fire, her hands clasped about her knees, her head bowed upon her breast, while the monotonous ticking of the clock told off the weary seconds, and the smouldering embers burned out leaving nothing but the cold ashes on the hearth.
