"Yes. I have come back," he said tonelessly.
Closing the door behind him, he advanced into the room and came and stood
beside her.
"Look up!" he exclaimed suddenly, almost violently. "Lift up your face, and
let me see what these months have done to you."
She lifted her face mechanically, and for a full minute he stood looking
down at it, reading it feature by feature, line by line--the proud, weary
droop of the mouth, the quiet acceptance of pain which had lain so long
in the gold-brown eyes. Then, with a groan he dropped suddenly and knelt
beside her, holding his arms close round her, and laid his head against
her knees. His face was hidden, and hesitatingly, with a half-shy,
half-maternal gesture Ann touched the dark head pressed against her.
Moments passed and he neither stirred nor spoke. At last she stooped over
him.
"Eliot," she said quietly, "tell me why you have come back?"
Even then he did not move at once, but at last he raised his head from her
knees and met her eyes.
"I've come back," he said slowly, "because, though I've doubted you, I
can't live without you. I've come back to ask your forgiveness--if it is
still possible for you to forgive me.
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