“You spoke to her?” Buck’s tone was half incredulous. “Did she—recognize you?”
The other nodded.
“You see, I’ve not changed much—except for my hair.”
“What did she do—say?”
The Padre’s smile remained.
“Said—I should see her again.”
For some moments the two men faced each other across the room. The yellow lamplight plainly revealed their different expressions. The Padre’s smile was inimitable in its sphinx-like obscurity, but Buck’s eyes were frankly troubled.
“And that means?” Buck’s question rang sharply.
“She has neither forgotten nor—forgiven.”