It was a month of strain and tension to all three, and
not one of them but experienced a great relief when Durrance visited his
oculist in London. And those visits increased in number, and lengthened
in duration. Even Ethne was grateful for them. She could throw off the
mask for a little while; she had an opportunity to be tired; she had
solitude wherein to gain strength to resume her high spirits upon
Durrance's return. There came hours when despair seized hold of her.
"Shall I be able to keep up the pretence when we are married, when we
are always together?" she asked herself. But she thrust the question
back unanswered; she dared not look forward, lest even now her strength
should fail her.
After the third visit Durrance said to her:--
"Do you remember that I once mentioned a famous oculist at Wiesbaden? It
seems advisable that I should go to him."
"You are recommended to go?"
"Yes, and to go alone."
Ethne looked up at him with a shrewd, quick glance.
"You think that I should be dull at Wiesbaden," she said. "There is no
fear of that. I can rout out some relative to go with me."
"No; it is on my own account," answered Durrance. "I shall perhaps have
to go into a home.
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