Had it struck its last blow?
Outside Nahoum's door she had a moment of utter weakness, when her knees smote together, and her throat became parched; but before the door had swung wide and her eyes swept the cool and shadowed room, she was as composed as on that night long ago when she had faced the man who knew.
Nahoum was standing in a waiting and respectful attitude as she entered.
He advanced towards her and bowed low, but stopped dumfounded, as he saw who she was.

Presently he recovered himself; but he offered no further greeting than to place a chair for her where her face was in the shadow and his in the light--time of crisis as it was, she noticed this and marvelled at him.

His face was as she had seen it those years ago.

It showed no change whatever.

The eyes looked at her calmly, openly, with no ulterior thought behind, as it might seem.