I. A. R. Wylie

“ They were descending in a swift volplane, the engines silent, every warning crack of the straining wires sounding loud in the silence.
“Fenton—you'll go back to her?”
“Man, don't humbug in the face of death! You know it's over with both of us——”
“But if it wasn't—if my chance were given me to—to make good—you'd go back?”
“We've said our good-by, Oscar. I'm dead—honorably dead. For the child's sake, it's better so.”
“If—if she were free—she could marry you—John Rogers. The world would never know.”
There was no answer. Villiers was waiting, counting the seconds that might remain. ”

“ Those who knew him nodded significantly at one another as he passed. There were whispered comments, snatches of gossip. “Since his friend's death poor Delisle has gone to the devil!” “It's a good thing that he isn't flying the machine!” He heard them with ears grown suddenly acutely conscious of the faintest sound, but he made no sign. And there was no trace of unsteadiness in his movements as he clambered into his place behind Rogers. ”

“ You've forgiven—even this?”
“Everything.”
“You love her—you'll understand how one can be tempted—— Tell her how it was.”
“Oscar—what are you doing?”
“Nothing. Steady, old man. Hold her up—she'll stand it now. God keep you!” ”