"You have a will of your own," I said. "Exert it if he attempts to return to you.""I have no will of my own," she answered quietly, "where _he_ is concerned. It is my misfortune to love him." Her eyes rested for a moment on mine, with the utter self-abandonment of despair. "We have said enough about this," she added abruptly. "Let us say no more."From that time we never spoke again of the unknown man. During the year that followed o ur first meeting, she heard nothing of him directly or indirectly. He might be living, or he might be dead. There came no word of him, or from him. I was fond enough of her to be satisfied with this--he never disturbed us.
IV.
THE year passed--and the end came. Not the end as you may have anticipated it, or as I might have foreboded it.