uncles. I have no time to waste. Are you coming?"
"No, you will be happier without me. Give them my love. Will Renny be there?"
"I don't know." How cruel he was! Why could he not let her be? How she would rejoice to be far away from all this in another twenty-four hours!
When he had returned to the living-room, he hung about miserably. He hated himself for having upset her. If he had! Perhaps it was the thought of going away that made her look like that. And he had meant to say something beautiful to her at the last! The whole situation was ludicrous. The sooner this impossible atmosphere was dispelled the better. . . . Did he hear a sob from the other room? Lord, he hoped not! That would be horrible. He stood and listened. No, it was all right. She was only clearing her throat. He fidgeted about till she came out, ready to go. She looked pale, calm, her hair beautifully cared for, as always. She had a pathetic air of serenity, as though the final word had been said, as though she were now beyond the reach of emotion. He saw that she had indeed been crying.
The sun had sunk below the treetops and had left them almost instantly in a well of greenish shadow. There was no afterglow, scarcely any twilight. After the rich radiance of the sun came shadow and chill. It was like the passing of their love, he thought, and mocked at himself for being sentimental.
"Alayne" he said.
"Yes?"
"Oh, nothing—I forgot what I was going to say." He followed her to the door. "You must have someone bring you home. It will be very dark."
She hesitated on the flat stone before the door. She turned suddenly to him, smiling.
"Home!" she repeated. "It was rather nice of you to say that."
He came out, took her hand and raised it to his lips. "Good-bye, Alayne!"
The crows were returning to their nests from some distant field. She heard their approach beyond the
