"Mr. Hamil," she said tremulously, "I never dreamed—"
"No, you didn't. I did. It is all right, Shiela."
"Oh—I—I never, never dreamed of it!"—shocked and pitifully incredulous still.
"I know you didn't. Don't worry." His voice was very gentle, but he was not looking at her.
"Is it my—fault, Mr. Hamil?"
"Your fault?" he repeated, surprised. "What have you done?"
"I—don't know."
He stood gazing absently out into the flaming west; and, speaking as though unaware: "From the first—I realise it now—even from the first moment when you sprang into my life out of the fog and the sea—Shiela! Shiela!—I—"
"Don't!" she whispered, "don't say it." She swayed back against the wall; her hand covered her eyes an instant—and dropped helpless, hopeless.
They faced each other.