"Last night I was dreaming of thee, love—was dreaming;
I dreamed thou didst promise—"
Cherry paused as if entranced, for she thought she heard another voice join with hers; then she bowed her head and sobbed in utter wretchedness, knowing it for nothing more than her own fancy. Too many times, as in other twilights past, she had heard that mellow voice blend with hers, only to find that her ears had played her false and she was alone with a memory that would never die.
Of all the days of her life this was the saddest, this hour the loneliest, and the tears she had withheld so bravely as long as there was work to do came now in unbidden profusion.
To face those people on the yacht had been an act of pure devotion to Boyd, for her every instinct had rebelled against it; yet she had known that some desperate stroke in his defence must be delivered instantly. Otherwise the ruin of all his hopes would follow. She had hit upon the device of using Constantine and Chakawana largely by chance, for not until the previous day had she learned the truth. She had not dared to hope for such unqualified success, nor had she foreseen the tragic outcome. She had simply carried her plan through to its natural conclusion. Now that her work was done, she gave way completely and wept like a little girl. He was out there now with his love. They would never waste a thought upon that other girl who had made their happiness possible. The thought was almost more than she could bear. Never again could she have Boyd to herself, never enjoy his careless friendship as of old; even that was over, now that he knew the truth.
The first and only kiss he had ever given her burned fresh upon her lips. She recalled that evening they had spent alone in this very room, when he had seemed to waver and her hopes had risen at the dawning of a new light in his eyes. At the memory she cried aloud, as if her heart would break:
"Boyd! Boyd!"
He entered noiselessly and took her in his arms.
"Yes, dear!" he murmured. But she rose with a startled exclamation, and wrenched herself from his embrace. The piano gave forth a discordant crash. Shrinking back as from an apparition, she stared into his flushed and smiling face; then breathed:
"You! Why are you—here!"
"Because I love you!"