'Oh, Max! my poor Max!' I returned, stroking his hand softly. He did not take it away: he only looked at me with his kind smile.
'That was Emmie's way,—her favourite little caress. Wait a moment, Ursula, my dear; I am going out for a breath of air,' And he stood in the porch for a few minutes, looking up at the winter sky seamed with stars, and then came back to me quietly, and waited for me to speak.
CHAPTER XXVIII
CROSSING THE RIVER
Max waited for me to speak, but I had no words ready for the occasion. My silence seemed to perplex him.
'You have heard everything now, Ursula.'
'Yes, I suppose so. I am very sorry for you, Max; you have suffered cruelly. And this only happened last year?'
'Last February.'
'It is very strange,—very mysterious. I do not seem to understand it. I cannot find the clue to all this.'