He broke down. He could not go on. Jane bent her head towards him. Drawing it to his shoulder, he continued:
“I have not been able to pull up here, despite the resolutions I have made from time to time. I was one of a fast set of men at Islip, and—somehow—they were stronger than I was. In Canada it may be different. I promise you, my darling, that I will strive to make it so. Do you think this is no lesson to me?”
“If not——”
“If not, we may never see each other again in this world.”
“Oh, Valentine!”
“Only in Heaven. The mistakes we make here may be righted there.”
“And will it be nothing to you, never to see me again here?—no sorrow or pain?”
“No sorrow or pain!” Valentine echoed the words out of the very depths of woe. Even then the pain within him was almost greater than he could bear.
They sat on in silence, with their aching hearts. Words fail in an hour of anguish such as this. An hour that comes perhaps but once in a lifetime; to some of us, never. Jane’s face lay nestled against his shoulder; her hand was in his clasp. Val’s tears were falling; he was weak yet from his recent illness; Jane’s despair was beyond tears.