"Not exactly those words. But I did come to say"—he stammered, then brought it out—"I did come to say we must have them right back." "Don't you think it—I mean that she ought to give them up?"!

"You won't wait for what we may hear?" Mrs. Gereth asked. "We're together, we're together," Mrs. Gereth lifelessly repeated. "That's all we are now; it's all we have." The words brought to Fleda a sudden vision of the empty little house at Ricks; such a vision might also have been what her companion found in the face of the stopped Dutch clock. Yet with this it was clear that she would now show no bitterness: she had done with that, had given the last drop to those horrible hours in London. No passion even was left to her, and her forbearance only added to the force with which she represented the final vanity of everything.

At this, opening her eyes, Mrs. Gereth sprang straight up. "Get him away from her!" "What has made the difference?" He turned about vaguely for his hat.