women, in circumstances of great strain, it is the feminine privilege to relieve themselves by emotion.
'Speak!' I urged of her. 'Tell me where you've been, darling?'
But she only shook her head and, still convulsed by sobs, sat there inert and heedless of all about her.
As I knelt in silence, the quiet of my room remained unbroken save for the low ticking of the clock, and the soft sobs of the woman I so dearly loved.
Tenderly I took my own handkerchief and wiped those tears from her white, hard-set face. Then, for the first time, I saw that her left eyebrow showed a dark red scar. It had not been there on the last occasion when we had been together.
That mark upon her brow set me wondering.
Across her forehead she drew her hand wearily, as at last she sat forward in her chair, an action as though to clear her confused and troubled brain.
'Let me take off your hat,' I said and, with a man's clumsiness, removed the old felt hat from her head.
As I did so her wealth of soft hair, which I saw had been sadly neglected, fell unkempt about her shoulders.
'That—that woman!' she suddenly ejaculated, half starting from her seat. 'Ah! that woman!' she cried.
'What woman, dear?' I asked, much mystified at her words.
'That woman—that awful woman!' she shouted. 'Ah! send her away—save me from her—Oh! save me. Look!'
And she pointed straight before her at some
