Unexpectedly, with a tightening grip, he pulled her nearer to him,
and looking into her eyes with fearless despair -

"You'll have to. I shall haunt you," he said firmly.

Her hand was wrenched out of his grasp before he had time to
release it. Felicia Moorsom stepped into the boat, sat down by the
side of her father, and breathed tenderly on her crushed fingers.

The professor gave her a sidelong look--nothing more. But the
professor's sister, yet on shore, had put up her long-handle double
eye-glass to look at the scene. She dropped it with a faint
rattle.

"I've never in my life heard anything so crude said to a lady," she
murmured, passing before Renouard with a perfectly erect head.
When, a moment afterwards, softening suddenly, she turned to throw
a good-bye to that young man, she saw only his back in the distance
moving towards the bungalow. She watched him go in--amazed--before
she too left the soil of Malata.

Nobody disturbed Renouard in that room where he had shut himself in
to breathe the evanescent perfume of her who for him was no more,
till late in the afternoon when the half-caste was heard on the
other side of the door.

He wanted the master to know that the trader Janet was just
entering the cove.