"What trouble you must have gone through!" he cried, and she turned and
looked him over.
"Not I alone," she said gently. "I passed no nights in the House of
Stone."
"But it was my fault. Do you remember what you said when the morning
came through the blinds? 'It's not right that one should suffer so much
pain.' It was not right."
"I had forgotten the words--oh, a long time since--until Colonel Trench
reminded me. I should never have spoken them. When I did I was not
thinking they would live so in your thoughts. I am sorry that I spoke
them."
"Oh, they were just enough. I never blamed you for them," said
Feversham, with a laugh. "I used to think that they would be the last
words I should hear when I turned my face to the wall. But you have
given me others to-day wherewith to replace them."
"Thank you," she said quietly.
There was nothing more to be said, and Feversham wondered why Ethne did
not rise from her seat in the pew. It did not occur to him to talk of
his travels or adventures. The occasion seemed too serious, too vital.
They were together to decide the most solemn issue in their lives. Once
the decision was made, as now it had been made, he felt that they could
hardly talk on other topics.
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