The velvet glory of the night was musical with faint sound and every flower and shrub raised a deified shadow to the searching purity of the inscrutable stars. Now and again a delicate moth rippled by, like the ghost of some dead blossom, on an unknown quest into the Unknown.
"And there, God rest her soul!" said Ferlie, presently.
The man at her side felt the Amen he could not bring himself to utter.
What he did reply was, "My dear, I love you. It's all right now because of that.... It will be all right."
* * * * * *
At the Club a few days later...
"Did you hear that Mrs. Clifford has adopted her brother's Indiscretion?"
"Lord! ... Wonder what he told her?"
"Maybe, that the lady represented the mourning and destitute widow of some mining accident."
"Mourning and destitute widow of your grandfather! Haven't you seen the kid?"