"Nina, have you forgiven me?"
"What have I to forgive, Leo?" she made answer; and she took his hand for a moment. "Get well—it is the prayer of many friends. And if you wish to see me again before I go, then I will come—"
"Before you go?" he managed to say. "You are going away again, Nina?"
His eyes were more piteous than his speech; she met that look—and her resolution faltered.
"At least," she said, "I will not go until you are well—no. When you wish for me, I will come to see you. We are still friends as of old, Leo, are we not? Now I must not remain. I will say good-bye for the present."
"When are you coming back, Nina?" he said, still with those pleading eyes.
"When you wish, Leo."
"This afternoon?"
"This afternoon, if you wish."
She pressed his hand and left. Her determined self-possession had carried her bravely so far; there had hardly been a trace of emotion. But when she went outside—when the strain was taken off—it may have been otherwise; at all events, when, with bowed and averted head, she crossed the sitting-room and betook herself to the empty chamber above, no one dreamed of following her—until Francie, some little time thereafter, went quietly up-stairs and tapped at the door and entered. She