He raised me to my feet and led me back to the foot of the balcony, and there he kissed my hand and let me go.
"Good night!" he said softly.
"Good night!" I answered.
"God bless you, my pure sweet girl!"
At the next moment I was in my room, lying face down on my bed—seeing no hope on any side, and sobbing my heart out for what might have been but for the hard law of my religion and the cruel tangle of my fate.
SIXTY-SIXTH CHAPTER
Next morning, Monday morning, while I was breakfasting in my bedroom, Price came with a message from Martin to say that he was going into the glen and wished to know if I would go with him.
I knew perfectly what that meant. He wished to tell me what steps he intended to take towards my divorce, and my heart trembled with the thought of the answer I had to give him—that divorce for me, under any circumstances, was quite impossible.
Sorry as I was for myself I was still more sorry for Martin. I felt like a judge who had to pronounce sentence upon him—dooming his dearest hopes to painful and instant death.