“I thought I should never get back,” he cried breathlessly, as he threw his reins to Sambo. “I ought not to have asked you to wait outside. Did it seem long, Jinny?”
She answered something, There was a seat near by under the trees. To lead her to it he seized her hand, but it was limp and cold, and a sudden fear came into his voice.
“Jinny!”
“Yes.”
She resisted, and he dropped her fingers. She remembered long how he stood in the scattered light from the bright windows, a tall, black figure of dismay. She felt the yearning in his eyes. But her own response, warm half an hour since, was lifeless.
“Jinny,” he said, “what is the matter?”
“Nothing, Max. Only I was very foolish to say I would wait for you.”
“Then—then you won't marry me?”
“Oh, Max,” she cried, “it is no time to talk of that now. I feel to-night as if something dreadful were to happen.”
“Do you mean war?” he asked.