strength was gone. She sank in utter impotence.

And then he came to her, he lifted her, he held her in his arms, pressed
sickening kisses upon her lips; and suddenly she knew that she had fled
from a myth to hurl herself into the power of her enemy. She had eluded
her fate but to find herself at the mercy of a devil.

Gasping and half-suffocated she awoke, starting upright in a cold sweat
of fear. Her heart was pumping as if it would burst. Her starting eyes
searched and searched for the face of her captor. Her ears were strained
for the sound of his soft, hateful laugh.

Ah! He was at the door! She heard a hand feeling along the panels, heard
the handle turn! As one paralyzed she sat and waited.

Softly the door opened.

"Allegro!" whispered a hushed voice.

Olga turned swiftly with outflung arms. "Oh, come in, dear! Come in!
I've had such a ghastly dream! You've come just in the nick of time."

Softly the door closed. Violet came to her, wonderful in the moonlight,
a white mystery with shining eyes. She stood beside the bed, suffering
herself to be clasped in her friend's arms.

"What have you been dreaming about?" she said.

"Oh, sheer nonsense of course," said Olga, hugging her in sheer relief.
"All about that hateful Hunt-Goring man. Get into bed beside me and help
me to forget him!"

But Violet remained where she was.

"Allegro," she said, "I've had--a bad dream--too."

"Have you, dear? How horrid!" said the sympathetic Olga. "What can we
both have had for supper, I wonder?"

Violet uttered a hard little laugh. "Oh, it wasn't that! I haven't been
asleep at all. I generally do sleep after Hunt-Goring's cigarettes. But
to-night I couldn't. They only seemed to make things worse." She sat
down abruptly on the edge of the bed. "Don't cuddle me, Allegro! I'm so
hot."

Olga leaned back on her pillows, with a curious sense of something gone
wrong. "Shall I light a candle?" she said.

"No. It's light enough. I hate an artificial glare, Allegro!"

"Well, dear?" said Olga gently.

Violet was sitting with her back to the moonlight, her face in deep
shadow. Her black hair was loosely tied back and hung below her waist.
Olga stretched out a hand and touched the silken ripples caressingly.

Violet threw back her head restlessly. "I'm going to give up
Hunt-Goring," she said.

"My dear, I am glad!" said Olga fervently.

Violet laughed again. "I only encouraged him for the sake of his
cigarettes. But I'm