“I’m not as ungrateful as that sounds—” He broke off, and Elizabeth said quickly:
“Oh, no.”
“You don’t think it?”
“Why should I? You are well again. You don’t need my help any more.”
A shadow like the shadow of evening came over her as she spoke, but her smile betrayed nothing.
They walked back to the hotel in silence.
David had wondered if he would sleep. He slept all night, the sweet sound sleep of health and a mind unburdened.
It was Elizabeth who did not sleep. She had walked with him through the valley of the shadow and he had come out of it a whole man again. Was she to cling to the shadow, because in the shadow David had clung to her? It came to that. She drove the thought home, and did not shirk the pain of it. They were come out into the light, and in the light he had no need of her. But this was not full daylight in which they walked—it was only the first chill grey of the dawn, and there is always a need of Love. Love needs must give, and giving, blesses and is blessed, for Love is of the realities—a thing immutable and all-pervading. No man can shut out Love.
CHAPTER XVII
THE DREAM
My hand has never touched your hand, I have not seen your face,