"Because I've been haunted by peculiar fears, since our last talk, that
something might happen before that time. I've actually lain awake at
night and thought about it! And I want to forestall all chances. I want
to rivet him to me!"

He could see by her eagerness that her mind had been irrevocably made up,
and that nothing could change her. She wanted agreement, not advice. And
with consummate bitterness of soul he submitted to his fate.

"I suppose you're right. Call him down now and I'll be present when you
ask him to join the circle--the family circle of the Cornishes, you
know."

He could not school all the bitterness out of his voice, but she seemed
too glad of his bare acquiescence to object to such trifles. She sent Wu
Chi to call Terence down to them. He had apparently been in his shirt
sleeves working at the gun. He came with his hands still faintly
glistening from their hasty washing, and with the coat which he had just
bundled into still rather bunched around his big shoulders. He came and
stood against the massive, rough-finished stones of the fireplace looking
down at Elizabeth. There had always been a sort of silent understanding
between him and Vance. They never exchanged more words and looks than
were absolutely necessary. Vance realized it more than ever as he looked
up to the tall athletic figure. And he realized also that since he had
last looked closely at Terence the latter had slipped out of boyhood and
into manhood. There was that indescribable something about the set of the
chin and the straight-looking eyes that spelled the difference.

"Terence," she said, "for twenty-four years you have been my boy."