He had pledged that to Nan, and he
would not break his word to--Nan. But love? His love was gone. It was
dead. And he knew that the ashes of that once passionate fire could
never be stirred into being again.
There was a rustle of skirts behind him. He heard, but did not turn. A
fierce passion was rising to his brain, and he dared not turn until he
had forced it under restraint.
"You have come back, Jeff?"
The voice was low and soft. There was something tragically humble in its
tone.
The man turned.
"Yes, Evie." Then he added: "I told you I would."
His voice was gentler than he knew. The harshness of their previous
meeting had gone out of it. Nor was he aware of the change, nor of the
reason, although in his mind was the memory of his promise to Nan.
"And you'll tell me your decision--now?"
The humility was heart-breaking. Nor was the man unaffected by it. He
looked into the beautiful face, for the dark eyes were averted. Then his
gaze dropped to the charming figure daintily clad in a simple morning
frock of subtle attraction.
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