her door Henderson took her by the shoulders almost roughly.
"For how long is this, Edith, and how are you going to say good-bye to me?"
She raised tired, pain-filled eyes to his.
"I don't know for how long it is," she said. "It seems now as if it had been a slow eternity. I wish to my soul that God would be merciful to me and make something 'snap' in my heart, as there did in Phil's, that would give me rest. I don't know for how long, but I'm perfectly shameless with you. Hart. If peace ever comes and I want you, I won't wait for you to find it out yourself, I'll cable, Marconigraph, anything. As for how I say good-bye; any way you please. I don't care in the least what happens to me."
Henderson studied her intently.
"In that case, we will shake hands," he said. "Good-bye, Edith. Don't forget that every hour I am thinking of you and hoping all good things will come to you soon."
