"I want to believe—I do believe you. I will risk my life for you: I—I—I love you, Maurice."
"My darling!"
She was very quiet, even sad, that evening. Conversation seemed an effort, and after some vain attempts to shake off her depression she hastily retired. After a long search Grey found her walking in one of the alleys of the garden, and could perceive by her tones that she had been weeping.
"In a very few days you will laugh at these pet superstitions. Do not indulge this mood: come and walk," he said persuasively.
"You are cruel."
"Indeed it is for your good."
"Maurice, do you think we are justified in thus tempting Fate?"
He smiled at her as if she were a child: "I have no doubts."
Her eyes shone solemnly as she replied, "Then lead me, even to death."