Drusilla and the Captain were standing by the wide window which looked out over the city. The snow came down like a curtain, shutting out the sky.
"Do you think she loves him?" Jean asked.
"I hope so," heartily.
"But to send him away so—easily. Oh, Derry, she can't care."
"She is sending him not easily, but bravely. Margaret let her husband go like that."
"Would you want me to let you go like that, Derry?"
"Yes, dear."
"Wouldn't you want me to—cry?"
"Perhaps. Just a little tear. But I should want you to think beyond the tears. I should want you to know that for us there can be no real separation. You are mine to the end of all eternity, Jean."
He believed it. And she believed it. And perhaps, after all, it was true. There must be a very separate and special Heaven for those who love once, and never love again.