"I hope yours will be, also."
"I hope so. I shall try to continue a dream which I had on the train. It was an odd one—something about a frontier and a sentry box. You woke me before I had entirely crossed the frontier. I'd like to cross and find out what really is on the other side."
He laughed:
"I hope you will find, there, whatever you desire."
"I—hope so. Because if I should cross the boundary and find—nobody—there, it might make me unhappy for the rest of my life." And she looked up at him with a slight blush on her cheeks.
Then her features grew grave, her eyes serious, clear, and wistful.
"I think I am—learning to care—a great deal for you. Don't let me if I shouldn't. Tell me while there is time."
She turned as the housekeeper came with the lighted candles.
Guild stood aside for her to pass, his grave face lowered, silent before this young girl's candour and the troubled sincerity of her avowal.
In his own room, the lighted candle still in his hand, he stood motionless, brooding on what she had said.