third finger.
'I see, ' he muttered dully, and then in protest: 'But you are too
young-you're too young to be married. ' 'I'm twenty-one years old, '
she told him softly.
'Your husband-where is he?' Perhaps the bastard was dead, his one last
hope.
'I am going to him now. When war seemed inevitable he went to Natal,
to Durban, to find a job and a home for us there.
I was to follow him-but the war came earlier than we expected.
I was stranded.'
'I see.' I am taking you to another man, he thought with bitterness,
and put it in different words. ' So he is sitting in Durban waiting
for you to make your own way through the lines. ' 'He is with the army
of Natal. A week ago he got a message through to me.
He wanted me to stay on in Johannesburg and wait until the British
capture the city. He says that with so great a force they will be in
Johannesburg within three months.
'Why didn't you wait, then?'
She shrugged. 'Patience is not one of my virtues, ' and then the
devilment was in her eyes again. 'Besides, I thought it would be fun
to run away-it was so terribly dull in Johannesburg. ' 'Do you love
him?' he demanded suddenly. The question startled her and the smile
died on her lips.
'He's my husband.'
'That doesn't answer my question.'
'It was a question you had no right to ask.' She was angry now.
'You have to tell me.
'Do you love your wife?' she snapped at him.
'I did. She's been dead five years. ' And her anger flickered out as
swiftly as it had blazed.
'Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know.'
'Forget it. Forget I ever asked. ' 'Yes, that's best. We are getting
into an awful tangle.' Her hand with the ring upon it was still held
out towards him, lying between them on the soft carpet of fallen
leaves. He reached out and lifted it. It was a small hand.
'Mr. Courtney,' 'Sean,' it's best if we must,' 'think we better sleep
now. ' And she withdrew the hand and rolled away from him.
The wind woke them in the middle of the afternoon, it roared in from
the east, flattening the grass on the hills and thrashing the branches
above their heads.
Sean looked up at the sky with the wind fluttering his shirt and
ruffling his beard. He leaned forward against it, towering over Ruth
so that suddenly she realized how big he was. He looked like a god of
the storm, with long powerful legs braced apart and the muscles of his
chest and arms standing out proudly beneath the white silk of his
shirt.
'Clouds building up,' Sean shouted above the rush of the wind.
'No moon tonight.'
She stood up quickly and a sudden violent gust threw her off balance.
