"'The whole meaning of things ?'" He gave a curious little laugh.

It had a strangled sound, almost like the cry of some tortured thing.

"Then things _have_ no meaning----" Sara stood staring at him, bewildered and a little frightened.
"Garth, what is it ?" she whispered.

"What has happened ?" He turned, and, walking away from her a few paces, stood very still with his head bent and one hand covering his eyes.
Overhead, the sunshine, filtering in through the green trellis of leafy twigs, flaunted gay little dancing patches of gold on the path below, as the leaves moved flickeringly in the breeze, and where the twisted growth of a branch had left a leafless aperture, it flung a single shaft of quivering light athwart the pergola.

It gleamed like a shining sword between the man and woman, as though dividing them one from the other and thrusting each into the shadows that lay on either hand.
"Garth----" At the sound of her voice he dropped his hand to his side and came slowly back and stood beside her.