"That is understood," she said with a smile.
He might have kissed her lips, her look into his eyes was almost an invitation, but, having steeled himself to be scrupulously fair, he refrained and contented himself with kissing her hand.
On reaching the hotel he heard with satisfaction that Henshaw had gone off by the late afternoon train and had suggested the unlikelihood of his returning. "So I suppose he is content to let the mystery remain a mystery," the landlord remarked. And the Coroner's jury subsequently had perforce to come to the same conclusion.
On the 16th of the following month, Hugh Gifford's impatience and anxiety were set at rest, as the morning's post brought the expected letter from Wynford.
"Dick and I are expecting you here tomorrow, unless you have changed your mind—I have not. The 3.15 train shall be met if you do not wire to the contrary."
When Gifford jumped out of the 3.15 Edith was on the platform. As they shook hands he read in her eyes an unwonted happiness and knew for certain that all was well.
"I had something to do in the town and thought I might as well come on to the station," Edith said with a lurking smile.
"I am glad you have not added even a half-hour to this long month," he replied as they took their seats in the carriage.
"It has been long," she murmured.
"Long enough to set our doubts at rest."