o lustre, and
for a moment her courage failed her utterly. It seemed to her that he
could never win back, that death possessed the room already, possessed
those candle-flames, the ticking of the clock, the dark, dripping night,
possessed her heart. Could he be gone before she had been his! Gone!
Where? She sank down on her knees, covering her eyes. What good to
watch, if he were never coming back! A long time--it seemed
hours--passed thus, with the feeling growing deeper in her that no good
would come while she was watching. And behind the barrier of her hands
she tried desperately to rally courage. If things were--they were! One
must look them in the face! She took her hands away. His eyes! Was it
light in them? Was it? They were seeing--surely they saw. And his lips
made the tiniest movement. In that turmoil of exultation she never knew
how she managed to continue kneeling there, with her hands on his. But
all her soul shone down to him out of her eyes, and drew and drew at his
spirit struggling back from the depths of him. For many minutes that
struggle lasted; then he smiled. It was the feeblest smile that ever was
on lips, but it made the tears pour down Nedda's cheeks and trickle off
on to his hands. Then, with a stoicism that she could not believe in, so
hopelessly unreal it seemed, so utterly the negation of the tumult within
her, she settled back again at his feet to watch and not excite him. And
still his lips smiled that faint smile, and his opened eyes grew dark and
darker with meaning.

So at midnight Kirsteen found them.

CHAPTER XXX

In the early hours of his all-night sitting Felix had first only
memories, and then Kirsteen for companion.

"I worry most about Tod," she said. "He had that look in his face when
he went off from Marrow Farm. He might do something terrible if they
ill-treat Sheila. If only she has sense enough to see and not provoke
them."

"Surely she will," Felix murmured.

"Yes, if she realizes. But she won't, I'm afraid. Even I have only
known him look like that three times. Tod is so gentle--passion stores
itself in him; and when it comes, it's awful. If he sees cruelty, he
goes almost mad. Once he would have killed a man if I hadn't got between
them. He doesn't know what he's doing at such moments. I wish--I wish
he were back. It's hard one can't pierce through, and see him."

Gazing at her eyes so dark and intent, Felix thought: 'If YOU can