"The next time I met Fahey after that night I was alone on the downs. He was alone too. I stopped to thank him. I do not remember exactly what I said--commonplace words of gratitude, no doubt. While I was speaking I was close to him, and gazing into his face. I cut my speech short, for I saw a look in his eyes that told me I was not indifferent to him."
The widow's hand fell from her face, and she looked at her visitor with an expression of trouble and dismay.
"There was nothing distressing or alarming in that," said Blake, with an encouraging smile. "You must remember you were then, as you are now, an exquisitely lovely woman.
"'No marvel, sovereign lady; in fair field
Myself for such a face had boldly died.'"
"Ay, ay," she said, with a shudder and a glance of horror round the room. "In the stanza before the one from which you quote my fate is written:
"'Where'er I came I brought calamity.'"
She stared before her, shuddered again, and sighed.
"Well?" said he. "You have more to tell me?"
"Yes; I'll go on."