From heaven they dropped to earth, and parted once more by
a hand-breath, stared with haggard looks at one another. The revulsion
was so great that Anne could have wept; but her sorrow was so deep that
her eyes were dry. For the gift of the world she could not have wept at
that hour.

But she no longer felt an inclination to fly. When she saw how worn and
thin her lover looked, she knew that he had been suffering as much as
she had, and a full tide of love swelled to her heart. She also had lost
much of her beauty, but she never thought of that. All she desired was
to comfort the man that loved her. She felt that an explanation was due
to him, and this she determined to give as far as she could without
incriminating others.

Taking his hand in her own, she led him some little distance from the
grave of Daisy; and they seated themselves on a flat stone in the shadow
of the church, and a stone's throw from the park wall. Here they could
converse without being seen, and if any one came they could hear the
footsteps on the gravelled path, and so be warned. And throughout that
short interview Anne listened with strained attention for the coming
step. At the outset Giles noted her expectant look and put his arm
round her.

"Dearest, do not fear," he said softly. "No one will come; and if any
one does I can save you."

"No," she replied, turning her weary eyes on him. "I am under a ban. I
am a fugitive from the law. You cannot save me from that."

"But you are innocent," he said vehemently.

"Do you believe that I am, Giles?"

"Do I believe it? Why should you ask me such a question? If you only
knew, Anne, I have never doubted you from the first. Never! never!"

"I do know it," she said, throwing her arms round his neck. "I have
known all along how you believed in my innocence. Oh, Giles, my darling
Giles, how shall I be able to thank you for this trust?"

"You can, Anne, by becoming my wife."

"Would you marry me with this accusation hanging over me?"

"I would make you my wife at this moment. I would stand beside you in
the dock holding your hand. What does it matter to me if all the foolish
world think you guilty? I know in my own heart that you are an innocent
woman."

"Oh, Giles, Giles!" Then her tears burst forth. She could weep now, and
felt the better for that moment of joyful relief. He waited till she
grew more composed, and then began to talk of the future.

"This can't go on for ever, Anne," said he