“David,” she said, “you are not a coward, are you?” “I do not know,” he muttered. Free! All the fine ecstasy, without the numbing terror. He was a manly man, free from any strong maternal strain, and he had loved his dark-eyed, dainty bright-colored, and active little wife with a real vein of passion in his sentiment. At any rate, it would be good to hear him saying the sort of things he did—perhaps now she would grasp them better—with this world-shaking secret brandishing itself about inside her head within a yard of him. He got out in much the same way from the Gatehouse,—stole the keys, and passed through a room where I was sitting half-asleep in a chair. Nothing to do; nothing for the hands, the mind, the heart. Here was an appalling fact: all her previous loneliness had been trifling beside that which now encompassed her and would for years to come.
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