"I owe you an apology," he said, "for yesterday. But I couldn't help it. Bettina was so little and lovely—you know I wouldn't harm a hair of her head——"
Something in his voice made Sophie lay her hand on his. "My dear boy, my dear boy——"
"I'm awfully hard hit," he said, "but she—she's turned me down. I fancy it was our last flight together. Do you remember Browning's 'Last Ride'—
"'And heaven just prove that I and she,
Ride, ride—together—forever ride——'?
"Well, my heaven will be a place where she and I shall drift through infinite space—together——"
He stood up. Sara was coming toward them—a brilliant little figure in a flame-colored gown.
"I'm not going to bore you with my worries," Justin said, quickly—"but—I—I wish you'd be awfully good—to Bettina."
Sophie carried away with her that night the vision of his tragic young face, and before she went to bed she wrote to Diana, and her letter ended thus:
"Oh, dearest girl, oh, dearest girl, what have we done, what have we done——!"