"I shall be quite all right," she said, apathetically.
He left her then, and presently from the window Marie saw him driving away down the road.
293 She gave a little sigh of relief, and for a moment covered her face with her hands.
She was free for a little while at last—free from the possibility of interruption. She crossed the room and opened the door. The little inn was very quiet, and nobody seemed to hear her step as she crept down the stairs and across the narrow, uneven hall to a closed door. She knew what lay behind that door, and for a moment she caught at the banisters with a sick feeling of anguish before she went steadily on and turned the handle.
CHAPTER XXV
"Oh heart that neither beats nor heaves,
In that one darkness lying still.
What now for thee my love's great will?
Or the fine web the sunshine weaves?"