"And in a fortnight you will tell me?" she asked, looking searchingly into his face.
"In a fortnight I will tell you."
"And between this and then you will not, in my presence or in your own secret mind, speak or think about such nonsense as daggers or poison-bowls, or gunpowder or bullets?" she asked scornfully.
"I promise I will not."
"Very well," she said; "I will do nothing till I hear from you at the end of a fortnight. Let us shake hands, Henry, and part friends."
"Friends!" he exclaimed, as tears of love and sorrow came into his eyes. "Mother, you are the only one on earth I love now."
"Hush, sir! How dare you say such a thing!"
"I swear it!" he cried vehemently. "I would do anything, dare anything, for you, mother——"
"And for your wife," she added, as if reminding him of an omission made in carelessness.
He paid no attention to her suggestion.