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—
—
“
but
I
won
’
t
,
”
he
continued
,
“
remind
you
of
that
,
or
of
anything
or
any
one
but
Owen
.
”
“
Owen
?
”
“
Yes
;
if
we
could
somehow
spare
him
—
—
”
She
had
dropped
her
hands
and
turned
her
startled
eyes
on
him
.
It
seemed
to
her
an
age
since
she
had
thought
of
Owen
!
“
You
see
,
don
’
t
you
,
”
Darrow
continued
,
“
that
if
you
send
me
away
now
—
—
”
She
interrupted
:
“
Yes
,
I
see
—
—
”
and
there
was
a
long
silence
between
them
.
At
length
she
said
,
very
low
:
“
I
don
’
t
want
any
one
else
to
suffer
as
I
’
m
suffering
.
.
.
”
“
Owen
knows
I
meant
to
leave
tomorrow
,
”
Darrow
went
on
.
“
Any
sudden
change
of
plan
may
make
him
think
.
.
.
”
Oh
,
she
saw
his
inevitable
logic
:
the
horror
of
it
was
on
every
side
of
her
!
It
had
seemed
possible
to
control
her
grief
and
face
Darrow
calmly
while
she
was
upheld
by
the
belief
that
this
was
their
last
hour
together
,
that
after
he
had
passed
out
of
the
room
there
would
be
no
fear
of
seeing
him
again
,
no
fear
that
his
nearness
,
his
look
,
his
voice
,
and
all
the
unseen
influences
that
flowed
from
him
,
would
dissolve
her
soul
to
weakness
.
But
her
courage
failed
at
the
idea
of
having
to
conspire
with
him
to
shield
Owen
,
of
keeping
up
with
him
,
for
Owen
’
s
sake
,
a
feint
of
union
and
felicity
.
To
live
at
Darrow
’
s
side
in
seeming
intimacy
and
harmony
for
another
twenty
-
four
hours
seemed
harder
than
to
live
without
him
for
all
the
rest
of
her
days
.
Her
strength
failed
her
,
and
she
threw
herself
down
and
buried
her
sobs
in
the
cushions
where
she
had
so
often
hidden
a
face
aglow
with
happiness
.
“
Anna
—
—
”
His
voice
was
close
to
her
.
“
Let
me
talk
to
you
quietly
.
It
’
s
not
worthy
of
either
of
us
to
be
afraid
.
”
