A
great weariness came upon her, too. But she did not change from her
fixed resolve. Two lives were not to be spoilt because she lived in the
world. To-morrow she could gather up her strength and begin again. For
Durrance must never know that there was another whom she placed before
him in her thoughts. Meanwhile, however, Durrance within the
drawing-room brought his confession to an end.
"So you see," he said, "I could not speak of Harry Feversham until
to-night. For I was afraid that what I had to tell you would hurt you
very much. I was afraid that you still remembered him, in spite of those
five years. I knew, of course, that you were my friend. But I doubted
whether in your heart you were not more than that to him. To-night,
however, I could tell you without fear."
Now at all events he expected an answer. Mrs. Adair, still standing by
the window, heard him move in the shadows.
"Ethne!" he said, with some surprise in his voice; and since again no
answer came, he rose, and walked towards the chair in which Ethne had
sat. Mrs. Adair could see him now. His hands felt for and grasped the
back of the chair. He bent over it, as though he thought Ethne was
leaning forward with her hands upon her knees.
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