ain?

"Dave," she said.

He turned quickly in his seat; the light fell on her face and he saw
her; he was on his feet and had taken a step toward her. Then he
stopped, and she saw his features harden as they had on that dreadful
occasion which now seemed so long ago. Would he turn on his heel? If
he did she must rush upon him. She must tell him now, she must plead
with him, reason with him, prevail upon him at all costs.

"Well?" he said. His voice was mechanical, but in it was something
which quickened her hope; something which suggested that he was making
it mechanical because he dared not let it express the human emotion
which was struggling for utterance.

"Let me talk to you, Dave," she pleaded. "I have followed you around
the world for this. Let me talk. I can explain everything."

He stood still so long that she wondered if he never would speak. She
dared not reach her hands to him, she could only stand and wait.

"Irene," he said, "why did you follow me here?"

"There is only one answer, Dave. Because I love you, and would follow
you anywhere. No one can stop me doing that; no one, Dave--except you."

[Illustration: "There is only one answer, Dave. Because I love you."]

And again he stood, and she knew that he was turning over in his mind
things weightier than life and death, and that when he spoke again his
course would be set. Then, in the partial shadow, she saw his arms
slowly extend; they rose, wide and strong, and extended toward her.
There was a quick step, and they met about her, and the world swooned
and went by. . . .

"I can explain everything," she said, when she could talk.

"You need explain nothing," he returned. "I have lived the torments of
the damned. Edith Duncan was right; she said if it were real love it
would never give up. 'Endureth all things,' she said. 'All things,'
she said. . . . There is no limit."

She caressed his cheeks with her fingers, and knew by the touch that
they were brown again as they had been in those great days of the
foothills. "But I must tell you, dear," she said, "so that you may
understand." And then she patched together the story, from what she
knew, and from what Edith Duncan had told her, and Dave filled in what
neither had known, including the incident earlier on that fateful
evening. She could see his jaws harden as they pieced the plot
together, and she knew what he was thinking.

"Your country needs you more," she whisper