The vestry door opened to the mews behind, and not to Golden Square. "He must be somewhere hereabouts," cried one of the horsemen, dismounting. ’ ‘It’s no use blaming me, Gerald,’ uttered Roding, shrugging helplessly as his senior turned questioning eyes on him. He proposed, he wanted to possess her! He loved her. She was looking anxiously at the entrance to the restaurant. “It is a great art,” she said in broken English. ” “Did it come—in Paris?” “I do not know,” he answered. That terrible laughter, just before his senses had left him! Why? Here was a word that volleyed at her from all directions, numbed and bewildered her: the multiple echoes of her own first utterance of the word. He was more like a man who had left his bed in the middle of convalescence. “Oh God!” she cried, “Oh God!” and flung aside her opera-cloak, and for a time walked about the room—a Corsair’s bride at a crisis of emotion.
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