Once or twice during the ceremony he had ventured to glance sideways at her. In the golden half-light of the altar there seemed to be an unfamiliar dignity and sweetness about the girl that became her. And in the delicate oval of her face he thought he discerned those finer, nobler contours made by endurance, by self-denial, and by sorrow.
Later, when he saw her kiss Jacqueline, something in the sweet sincerity of the salute suddenly set a hidden chord vibrating within him; and, to his surprise, he found speech difficult for a moment, checked by emotions for which there seemed no reason.
And at last Jacqueline and Desboro went away, and Cynthia slowly turned to him, offering her hand in adieu.
"Mr. Cairns," she said quietly, "this is the last place on earth that you and I ever thought to meet. Perhaps it is to be our last meeting place. So—I will say good-bye——"
"May I not walk home with you? Or, if you prefer to drive, my car is here——" he began.
"Thank you; it's only to the theatre—if you care to walk with me——"
"Are you rehearsing?"
"There is a rehearsal called for eleven."
"Shall we drive or walk, Cynthia?"
"I prefer to walk. Please don't feel that you ought to go back with me."