'How did she get over it yesterday?' Farrell presently asked.
'Well, of course it was hard,' said Hester, quietly. 'I let her alone, poor child, and I told Mrs. Weston not to bother her. She came up to these rooms and shut herself up a little. I went over to my own cottage, and came back for supper. Then she had got it over—and I just kissed her and said nothing. It was much best.'
'Do you think she gives up hope?'
Hester shook her head.
'Not the least. You can see that.'
'What do you mean?'
'When she gives up hope, she will put on a black dress.'
Farrell gave an impatient sigh.
'You know there can't be the smallest doubt that Sarratt is dead! He died in some German hospital, and the news has never come through.'
'The Red Cross people at Geneva declare that if he had died in hospital they would know. The identification disks are returned to them—so they say—with remarkable care.'