in her act, when, stretching out her arms in the darkness, she whispered pleadingly:

‘Forgive me, Harold!’

And Harold, far away where the setting sun was lying red on the rim of the western sea, could not hear her. But perhaps God did.

As, then, Harold’s motive was not of the basest, it must have been of the noblest. What would be a man’s noblest motive under such circumstances? Surely self-sacrifice!

And yet there could be no doubt as to Harold’s earnestness when he had told her that he loved her �

Here Stephen covered her face in one moment of rapture. But the gloom that followed was darker than the night. She did not pursue the thought. That would come later when she should understand.