This kinship was their only bond--unadmitted, uncomprehended by themselves; kinship in love, and the sadness of it; in love, and the loneliness of it; love--and the long hours of waiting; night, and the tears of it.
The sun hung low behind the scented orange grove before Virginia moved, laying her thin cheek on Shiela's hand.
"Did you see--that letter--in the sand ?" she whispered.
"Yes." "The writing--you knew it ?...

Answer me, Shiela." "Yes, I knew it." Virginia lay very still for a while, then covered her face with both hands.
"Oh, my dear, my dear!" breathed Shiela, bending close beside her.
Virginia lay motionless for a moment, then uncovered her face.
"It is strange," she said, in a colourless, almost inaudible voice.

"You see I am simply helpless--dependent on your mercy....

Because a woman does not faint over--nothing." The deep distress in Shiela's eyes held her silent for a space.

She looked back at her, then her brooding gaze shifted to the laden branches overhead, to the leafy vistas beyond, to the ground where the golden fruit lay burning in the red, level rays of the western sun.
"I did not know he was married," she said vacantly.
Swift anger burned in Shiela's cheeks.
"He was a coward not to tell you--" "He was honourable about it," said Virginia, in the same monotonous voice.