The rains had swelled the river
higher up the valley, and they had opened the sluice-gates to relieve
the pressure upon the dam that had been built there after the disastrous
flood that had drowned the English girl years before.
Hope loved to hear that soft chuckling between the reeds. It made her
think of an English springtime. The joy of spring was in her veins. She
turned her face to the sunshine with a smile of purest happiness. Only
two months more to the zenith of her happiness!
There came the sound of a step on the veranda--a stumbling, uncertain
step. She turned swiftly in her chair, and sprang up. Ronnie had
returned to prepare for the race, and she had not heard him. She had not
seen him before that day, and she felt a momentary compunction as she
moved to greet him. And then--her heart stood still.
He was standing a few paces away, supporting himself against a pillar of
the veranda. His eyes were fixed and heavy, like the eyes of a man
walking in his sleep. He stared at her dully, as if he were looking at a
complete stranger.
Hope stopped short, gazing at him in speechless consternation.
After several moments he spoke thickly, scarcely intelligibly.
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