Summary

Portrait of A. E. W. Mason A. E. W. Mason The Four Feathers — IX: At Glenalla (1902)

Durrance did not understand what she was after. Possibly no one could have understood unless he was aware of what had passed between Harry Feversham and Ethne. Durrance wore the likeness of a man, and she was anxious to make sure that the spirit of a man informed it. He was a dark lantern to her. There might be a flame burning within, or there might be mere vacancy and darkness.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of A. E. W. Mason A. E. W. Mason The Four Feathers — IX: At Glenalla (1902)

Durrance and Ethne were thus thrown much together. By day, in the wet weather or the fine, they tramped the hills, while she, with the colour glowing in her face, and her eyes most jealous and eager, showed him her country and exacted his admiration. In the evenings she would take her violin, and sitting as of old with an averted face, she would bid the strings speak of the heights and depths.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of A. E. W. Mason A. E. W. Mason The Four Feathers — IX: At Glenalla (1902)

Durrance rose with her. He was still not so much disheartened as conscious of a blunder. He had put his case badly; he should never have given her the opportunity to think that marriage would be an interruption of his career.
"We will say good-bye here," she said, "in the open. We shall be none the less good friends because three thousand miles hinder us from shaking hands."
They shook hands as she spoke.
"I shall be in England again in a year's time," said Durrance. "May I come back?"
Ethne's eyes and her smile consented.
Source: Wikisource

Get perspective with Kwize: daily news enlightened by great literature