"Poor lass!" he said in his abrupt way, suddenly gripped by this idea of
her grimacing under sorrow. He had given her such a lot of it--by
George! He grasped her hand with a quick gesture, and frown of pain,
drawing it through his arm.

"It's to be a clean slate, my girl," he said, looking down at her.

He felt the slight fingers pinch into his arm.

"_Yes_," she said. "Yes, Cecil." But she looked in front of her face
gave him another pang. He was glad that gether, as though the dazzle of
the white road and clouds and walls along the way, hurt her eyes.

Chesney fought off a great fog of depression that seemed suddenly to
settle down on him.

"'Cheerly! Cheerly!'" he cried, putting a bluff note into his voice that
he was far from feeling. "What's it the old chap in _The Tempest_
says?--'Heigh, my hearts! Cheerly, cheerly, my hearts!' That's the
'barbaric yawp' for us, Sophy--eh? Don't you feel it so?"

"Yes.... I do.... I do, Cecil," she responded eagerly. Her grey eyes
looked up at him now. The bright bravery of her face gave him another
pang. He was glad that their next step brought them to the little Hotel
Ghiffa. Sophy ran up to see how Bobby was faring, in the rooms that she
had taken till the hour for leaving. She found him clamouring to go down
and "p'ay ball wiv mens" in the garden. A game of _Boccie_ was going on
there. She sent him down with Rosa to look on. Then she went out again
to find Cecil. He met her at the door of the second bedroom. When he saw
her, he stepped back into the room and signed her to come. He reached
out and shut the door behind her. His face looked strange, all pale
under its heavy coat of tan.

"Sophy," he said, "don't think me a sentimental ass--but you've never
told me ... in so many words that ... well ... that you forgive me?"

He was gazing at her hungrily, with a look half ashamed, half
determined. She went straight to him, and put her arms around him. It
was queer how much he appealed to her as Bobby did.

"Oh, I'm so sorry that I've let you feel the need of words!" she said.
"But if you want them I'll say them over and over----"

"No...." he stopped her; "I don't want them ... now. Will you...?" His
arms held her painfully close. She turned her face to him and he kissed
her--almost shyly. Her eyes stung. She put up her hand and pressed his
cheek to hers....

"Now I'll go order our luncheon," she said gaily. But he knew well that
there was no gaiety in her heart. An