dmarks, covering, as by one great inrolling tidal
wave, all the familiar country of her heart? Whither was she being swept
in the midst of this overwhelming roaring torrent? Out to sea? To some
swift destruction? Where? Where?

She clutched the arm of the sofa and trembled. She had known so many
small emotions. What was this? And like a second wave on the top of the
first a sea of recklessness broke over and engulfed her. _What next?_
She did not know. She did not care. Michael, his face and hand. These
were the only realities. In another moment she should see him, feel him,
hold him, never, never let him go again.

In the intense stillness a whisper came up through the orange blossom
below her balcony:

"Fay."

She was on the balcony in a moment. The scent of the orange blossom had
become alive and confused everything.

"Come up," she said almost inaudibly.

"I cannot."

"You must. I must speak to you."

"Come down here then. I am not coming up."

She ran down, and felt rather than saw Michael's presence at the foot of
the little stair.

He was breathing hard. He did not move towards her.

"You sent for me, so I came," he said. "Tell me quickly what I can do
for you, how I can serve you. I cannot remain here more than a moment. I
endanger your safety as it is."

It was all so different from what she had expected, from what she had
pictured to herself. He was so determined and stern; and it had never
struck her as possible that he would not come up to her room, that the
interview would be so short.

"I can't speak here," she said, angry tears smarting in her eyes.

"You can and must. Tell me quickly, dearest, why you sent for me. You
said it was all-important. I am here, I will do your bidding, if you
will only say what it is."

"Take me with you," she gasped inaudibly.

She had not meant to say that. She was merely the mouthpiece of
something vast, of some blind destructive force that was rending her.
She swayed against the railings, clinging to them with both hands.

Even as she spoke her voiceless whisper was drowned in a sound but very
little louder. There was a distant stir, a movement as of waking bees in
the house.

He had not heard her. He was listening intently.

"Go back instantly and shut the window," he said, and in a moment she
felt he was gone.

She crept feebly up the stairs to her room and sank down again on the
couch, broken, half dead.

"I shall see him no more. I shall see