Then he remembered the visit he had promised, but there was no longer any time.

He took the train to the New Forest, and three days later went to France.
But of Luttrell's visit to Colonel Oakley, Stella Croyle never knew.
And, again, very likely it would not have mattered if she had.

They were parted too widely for insight and clear vision.
* * * * * Hillyard carried away with him a picture of Stella's haunted and despairing face.

It was over against him as he dined at his club, gleaming palely from out of darkness, the lips quivering, the eyes sad with all the sorrows of women.

He could blame neither the one nor the other--neither Stella Croyle nor Harry Luttrell.