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 "Mr. Melville, tell him to come back to me."

"And?"

"Tell him to come back to me, or"—a sudden note of passion rang in her voice—"if I have no hold upon him, let him go his way."

"But—" said Melville.

"I know," she cried, with her face set, "I know. But if he is mine he will come to me, and if he is not— Let him dream his dream."

Her clenched hand tightened as she spoke. He saw in her face she would say no more, that she wanted urgently to leave it there. He turned again towards the staircase. He glanced at her and went down.

As he looked up from the bend of the stairs she was still standing in the light.

He was moved to proclaim himself in