"But, Don, you find it all-absorbing; don't you?"
"No, not all-absorbing, now."
"But sufficiently so to be a comfort to you if you ever had any great grief? After the first shock, you would return to your old pursuits, would you not? And, by and by, you would find solace in them?"
I unclasped her hands from my neck, and drew her round to me. There was a new note in her voice that sounded ominous.
"What is the trouble, little woman!" I whispered, when I had her safe in my arms.
"I don't think I could die and leave you, Don, if I thought you would be miserable."
"Well, then, don't allow yourself to entertain any doubt on the subject," I answered; "for I should be more than 'miserable.' I should never care for anything in the world again."
"But if I should have to die—"
"There is no need to distress either yourself or me by such an idle supposition, Evadne," I answered. "There is not the slightest occasion for alarm."
"I am not alarmed," she said, and then she was silent.