Vainly Ernest remonstrated with her.

"Go to him," she said, and again, "go to him."

With a heavy heart the boy obeyed. He waved his hat to her once more
from below, and then rapidly disappeared in the crowd. For a moment
strange misgivings cramped her heart, and something within her called
out to him: "Do not go! Do not return to that house." But no sound
issued from her lips. Worldly wisdom had sealed them, had stifled the
inner voice. And soon the boy's golden head was swallowed up in the
distance.




XVI


While the train sped to New York, Ethel Brandenbourg was the one object
engaging Ernest's mind. He still felt the pressure of her lips upon his,
and his nostrils dilated at the thought of the fragrance of her hair
brushing against his forehead.

But the moment his foot touched the ferry-boat that was to take him to
Manhattan, the past three weeks were, for the time being at least,
completely obliterated from his memory. All his other interests that he
had suppressed in her company because she had no part in them, came
rushing back to him. He anticipated with delight his meeting with
Reginald Clarke. The personal attractiveness of the man had never seemed
so powerful to Ernest as when he had not heard from him for some time.