Part 28

“I don’t know,” said Rosamund with a sort of sob. “But it’s the only way of feeling that Francie and I are not so very far apart after all.”

From the garden below came the voices of Hazel’s children, Dickie calling in a shrill, sweet treble.

Rosamund gave a sudden smile, and then it died from her eyes in a rush of overwhelming loneliness.

Ludovic’s need was urgent, and he took his advantage.

“Rosamund,” he said entreatingly.

Her gaze did not leave the far line of the horizon, but very slowly, without turning her head, she gave him her hand.

EXETER, _June, 1916_. LONDON, _June, 1917_.

THE END

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:

Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.

Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.

Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.

Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.

New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the public domain.