Again his words went into silence.  The girl’s eyes were fixed upon the stretch of sandy veldt below her and that which it held.

Silently the man watched her, his keen eyes very steady, very determined.

She lifted her own at last, and met them with brave directness.  “You know, partner,” she said, “it isn’t very fair of you to ask me such a thing as that.  You can’t have—­everything.”

“All right,” said Burke, and felt in his pocket for his pipe.  “Consider it unsaid!”

His abrupt acceptance of her remonstrance was curiously disconcerting.  The mastery of his look had led her to expect something different.  She watched him dumbly as he filled his pipe with quiet precision.

Finally, as he looked at her again, she spoke.  “I don’t want to seem over-critical—­ungrateful, but—­” her breath came quickly—­“though you have been so awfully good to me, I can’t help feeling—­that you might have done more for Guy, if—­if you had been kinder when he went wrong.  And—­” her eyes filled with sudden tears—­“that thought spoils—­just everything.”

“I see,” said Burke, and though his lips were grim his voice was wholly free from harshness.  “Mrs. Merston told you all about it, did she?”

Sylvia’s colour rose again.  She turned slightly from him.  “She didn’t say much,” she said.

There was a pause.  Then unexpectedly Burke’s hand closed over her two clasped ones.  “So I’ve got to be punished, have I?” he said.

She shook her head, shrinking a little though she suffered his touch.  “No.  Only—­I can’t forget it,—­that’s all.”

“Or forgive?” said Burke.

She swallowed her tears with an effort.  “No, not that.  I’m not vindictive.  But—­oh, Burke—­” she turned to him impulsively,—­“I wish—­I wish—­we could find Guy!”

He stiffened almost as if at a blow.  “Why?” he demanded sternly.

For a moment his look awed her, but only for a moment; the longing in her heart was so great as to overwhelm all misgiving.  She grasped his arm tightly between her hands.

“If we could only find him—­and save him—­save him somehow from the horrible pit he seems to have fallen into!  We could do it between us—­I feel sure we could do it—–­if only—­if only—­we could find him!”

Breathlessly her words rushed out.  It seemed as if she had stumbled almost inadvertently upon the solution of the problem that had so tormented her.  She marvelled now that she had ever been able to endure inaction with regard to Guy.  She was amazed at herself for having been so easily content.  It was almost as if in that moment she heard Guy’s voice very far away, calling to her for help.

And then, swift as a lightning-flash, striking dismay to her soul, came the consciousness of Burke gazing straight at her with that in his eyes which she could not—­dare not—­meet.

She gripped his arm a little tighter.  She was quivering from head to foot.  “We could do it between us,” she breathed again.  “Wouldn’t it be worth it?  Oh, wouldn’t it be worth it?”