CHAPTER XVIII.
THE ANSWER TO THE OVERTURE Ethne did not turn towards Durrance or move at all from her attitude.
She sat with her violin upon her knees, looking across the moonlit garden to the band of silver in the gap of the trees; and she kept her position deliberately.

For it helped her to believe that Harry Feversham himself was speaking to her, she was able to forget that he was speaking through the voice of Durrance.

She almost forgot that Durrance was even in the room.

She listened with Durrance's own intentness, and anxious that the voice should speak very slowly, so that the message might take a long time in the telling, and she gather it all jealously to her heart.
"It was on the night before I started eastward into the desert--for the last time," said Durrance, and the deep longing and regret with which he dwelt upon that "last time" for once left Ethne quite untouched.
"Yes," she said.

"That was in February.