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THE GRAY MASK
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of farewell, a welcome if she should come back. Perhaps she will some day."
Such devotion stirred anew in Garth the sensations he had experienced in the conservatory. He watched Nora as her fingers moved with their accustomed deftness about her knitting. She made the old picture, lovable and tempting, of quiet, housewifely efficiency.
"You always knit," he said in an uncertain voice.
"Another winter is very close," she answered gravely, "and if the peace should be delayed there would be so much suffering—"
He stretched out his hand.
"Nora," he said huskily, "you've saved my life to-night. It's yours. What will you do with it?"
She glanced up. She smiled a little.
"You very nearly took mine, Jim, so aren't we quits?"
