me. I sought little stones. I crept back to throw them. Ah God! her form eclipsed that lighted slit in the gray stone tower. I heard her weeping high above me at her window.
“Eva! Eva!”
There was a pause, and then a little cry of gladness.
“Is it Mr. Cole?” came in an eager whisper through her tears.
“Yes! yes! I was outside the window. I heard everything.”
“They will hear you!” she cried softly, in a steadier voice.
“No-listen!” They were quarrelling. Rattray’s voice was loud and angry. “They
of those circumstances, I suppose?” he faltered.
“No: not now: no good at all.”
“Forgive me,” he said, resuming his walk. “I had no business - I felt so sorry - I cannot tell you how I sympathize! And yet - I wonder if you will always feel so?”
“No saying how I shall feel when I am a man again,”