She smiled a little, with infinite sadness.

“Listen, Kathleen,” he said.  They had both risen, and he stood before her, looking down at her.  “I will go now, but in a year’s time I shall come back.  I will not give you up.  You shall love me yet.”

“Perhaps—­I don’t think so,” she answered, wearily.

Broomhurst looked at her trembling lips a moment in silence; then he stooped and kissed both her hands instead.

“I will wait till you tell me you love me,” he said.

She stood watching him out of sight.  He did not look back, and she turned with swimming eyes to the gray sea and the transient gleams of sunlight that swept like tender smiles across its face.