to kiss his forehead.

But he gave her his lips instead--the thin, cynical lips that were wont
to smile so bitterly. There was no bitterness about them now. They were
only grave to sternness. And so, after a moment, she kissed him as he
wished, and he kissed her in return.

Afterwards, he rose in unbroken silence, and went away.

CHAPTER VI

THE BURIAL OF A HATCHET

During the weeks that followed, something of her former tranquillity came
back to Anne. It was evident that Nap was determined to show himself
worthy of her trust, for never by word or look did he make the slightest
reference to what had passed between them. He came and went after his
customary sudden fashion. He never informed any one of his movements, nor
did even Lucas know when he might be expected at Baronmead. But his
absences were never of long duration, and Anne met him fairly frequently.

She herself was more at leisure now than she had been for years, for
Lucas had found an agent for her and the sole care of her husband's
estate no longer lay upon her. She spent much of her time with Mrs.
Errol. Her happiest hours were those she spent with Lucas and his mother
in the great music-room at Baronmead. It was here also that she learned
to know of that hidden, vital quantity, elusive as flame, that was Nap
Errol's soul. For here he would often join them, and the music he drew
from his violin, weirdly passionate, with a pathos no words could ever
utter, was to Anne the very expression of the man's complex being. There
were times when she could hardly hear that wild music of his without
tears. It was like the crying of something that was lost.

Often, after having accompanied him for a long time, she would take her
hands from the piano and sit silent with a strange and bitter sense of
impotence, as if he were leading whither she could not follow. And Nap
would play on and on in the quiet room, as though he played for her
alone, with the sure hand of a master upon the quivering strings of her
woman's heart.

But he never spoke to her of love. His eyes conveyed no message at any
time. His straight gaze was impenetrable. He never even touched her hand
unless she offered it to him. And gradually her confidence in him grew
stronger. The instinct that bade her beware of him ceased to disquiet
her. She found herself able to meet him without misgiving, believing that
he had conquered himself for her sake, believing that he bowed to the
inevitable