h of wild olive; but she had not looked like this. There
was something piercing in her expression that was quite new to him.

"I felt I ought to do it," he said dully.

"Did you think I should try to prevent you?"

"No. I scarcely knew what I thought."

"Have you told your mother?"

"No. I had to tell Uncle Biron because of the business. Nobody else
knows."

And then suddenly he remembered Beattie.

"At least I haven't told any one else."

"But some one else does know--knew before I did."

"I saw Beattie just now, as I said. I believe she guessed. I didn't tell
her."

"But how could she guess such a thing if you gave her no hint?"

"That's just what I have been wondering."

Rosamund was silent. She went away from him and stood by the fire,
turning her back to him. He waited for a moment, then he went to the
hearth.

"Don't you think perhaps it's best for a man to decide such a thing
quite alone? It's a man's job, and each man must judge for himself what
he ought to do in such a moment. If you had asked me not to go I should
have felt bound to go all the same."

"But I should have said 'Go.' Then you never understood me in Greece?
All our talks told you nothing about me? And now Robin is here--you
thought I should ask you not to go!"

She turned round. She seemed almost passionately surprised.

"Perhaps--in a way--I wished to think that."

"Why? Did you wish to despise me?"

"Rosamund! As if I could ever do that."

"If you did a despicable thing I should despise you."

"Don't! I haven't much more time here."

"I never, never shall be able to understand how you could do this
without telling me beforehand that you were going to do it."

"It wasn't from any want of respect or love for you."

"I can't talk about it any more just now."

The flush on her face deepened. She turned and went out of the room.

Dion was painfully affected. He had never before had a serious
disagreement with Rosamund. It was almost intolerable to have one now
on the eve of departure from her. He felt like one who had committed an
outrage out of the depths of a terrible hunger, a hunger of curiosity.
He knew now why he had volunteered for active service without consulting
Rosamund. Obscurely his nature had spoken, saying, "Put her to the test
and make the test drastic." And he had obeyed the command. He had wanted
to know, to find out suddenly, in a moment, the exact truth of years.
And now he had roused a passion of a