Quarren was silent.
"I suppose—it won't last—that hurt. They're with my mother. It was agreed that they should remain with her.... But it's the only hurt I feel at all now—except—rarely—when those damned June roses are in bloom.... She wore them a good deal.... Quarren, I'm glad it came early to me if it had to come.... Like yellow dogs unsuccessful men are the fastest breeders. The man in permanent hard luck is always the most prolific.... I'm glad there are no more children."
His sunken eyes fell to the book, and, thinking of his wife, he read what was not written there—
"Her loveliness with shame and with surprise
Froze my swift speech; she turning on my face
The star-like sorrows of immortal eyes,
Spoke slowly.
"'I had great beauty; ask thou not my name;
No one can be more wise than destiny.
Many drew swords and died. Where'er I came
I brought calamity.'"
Quarren bit his lip and looked down at the sunlit brook dancing by under the bridge in amber beauty.
Ledwith said musingly: "I don't know who it might have been if it had not been Sprowl. It would have been somebody!... The decree has been made absolute."
"She's coming back here soon, now. I've had the place put in shape for her."
After a silence Quarren rose and offered his hand.