“No.”
There was a silence.
“I’m sorry,” began Gethryn, but was cut short by a gruff:
“All right; good night!” and Braith went away.
Yvonne looked inquiringly at him.
“It was nothing,” he murmured, very pale, and then threw himself at her feet, crying, “Oh, Yvonne—Yvonne!”
Outside the storm raged furiously.
Presently she whispered, “Rex, shall I light the candle? It is midnight.”
“Yes,” he said.
She slipped away, and after searching for some time, cried, “the matches are all gone, but here is a piece of paper—a letter; do you want it? I can light it over the lamp.”