"Oh, I knew you would come—I was sure you would come!" she said, and dried her eyes, and then cried again, and then dried them afresh, and lifted her pouting lips to be kissed.
Hugh Ritson made no display. A shade of impatience crossed his face at first, but it was soon gone. He tried to look pleased, and bent his head and touched the pale lips slightly.
"You look wan, you poor little thing," he said, quietly. "What ails you?"
"Nothing—nothing, now that you have come. Only you were so long in coming, so very long."
He called up a brave word to answer her.
"But you see I keep my word, little woman," he said, and smiled down at her and nodded his head cheerfully.
"And you have come to see me at last! All this way to see poor little me!"
The mute weariness that had marked her face fled at that moment before a radiant smile.
"One must do something for those who risk so much for one," he said, and laughed a little.
"Ah!"