Her quick, straight handshake tightened suddenly, and as suddenly became slack.
Ashurst stood motionless in the empty sitting-room. Only last night, under the apple tree and the living blossom, he had held Megan to him, kissing her eyes and lips. And he gasped, swept by that rush of remembrance. To-night it should have begun-his life with her who only wanted to be with him! And now, twenty-four hours and more must pass, because-of not looking at his watch! Why had he made friends with this family of innocents just when he was saying good-bye to innocence, and all the rest of it? 'But I mean to marry her,' he thought; 'I told her so!'
He took a candle, lighted it, and went to his bedroom, which was next to Halliday's. His friend's voice called, as he was passing:
He was sitting up in bed, smoking a pipe and reading.
“I've been thinking about this afternoon, you know,” said Halliday rather suddenly. “They say you go through all your past. I didn't. I suppose I wasn't far enough gone.”
Halliday was silent for a little, then said quietly
“Well, I did think of one thing--rather odd--of a girl at Cambridge that I might have--you know; I was glad I hadn't got her on my mind. Anyhow, old chap, I owe it to you that I'm here; I should have been in the big dark by now. No more bed, or baccy; no more anything. I say, what d'you suppose happens to us?”
“We may flicker, and cling about a bit, perhaps.”
“H'm! I think that's rather gloomy. I say, I hope my young sisters have been decent to you?”
Halliday put his pipe down, crossed his hands behind his neck, and turned his face towards the window.
Watching his friend, lying there, with that smile, and the candle-light on his face, Ashurst shuddered. Quite true! He might have been lying there with no smile, with all that sunny look gone out for ever! He might not have been lying there at all, but “sanded” at the bottom of the sea, waiting for resurrection on the ninth day, was it? And that smile of Halliday's seemed to him suddenly something wonderful, as if in it were all the difference between life and death--the little flame--the all! He got up, and said softly:
“Well, you ought to sleep, I expect. Shall I blow out?”
“I can't say it, you know; but it must be rotten to be dead. Good-night, old boy!”