Well, I am there at the crossroads. I
think I feel more inclined to look for a seat than to go on."
"The strongest of us need to rest sometimes," she agreed quietly.
He relapsed into a silence so apparently deliberate that she accepted it
as a respite for herself also. From the greater seclusion of her
shadowy seat, she found herself presently able to watch him
unnoticed,--the brooding melancholy of his face, the nervous,
unsatisfied mouth, the discontent of his sombre brows. Then, even as
she watched, the change in his expression startled her. His eyes were
fixed upon the narrow ribbon of road which twisted around the other side
of the house and led over the bleaker moors, seawards. The look puzzled
her, gave her an uncomfortable feeling. Its note of appreciation seemed
to her inexplicable. With a quaint, electrical sympathy, he caught the
unspoken question in her eyes and translated it.
"You are beginning to doubt me," he said. "You are wondering if the
shadow I carry with me is not something more than the mere depression of
a man who has failed.
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