ne?"

"Nothing has happened. We had it out, of course. The next day. Before
we came home I wanted to set her free, but she refused."

"Refused! But how could she? When she _knew! Why_ did she refuse?"

Dane flushed in miserable discomfort.

"If you had been free, she would have broken the engagement herself, but
she believes that it would make things harder for--for us both, if she
stood aside. She thinks we might be tempted to--to--"

"What _are_ we going to do, Dane?" Cassandra asked simply. "Isn't it
strange how one comes up against problems in life, and how different
they are in reality from what one has imagined? I've heard of married
women falling in love with other men, and meeting them, as we have met
now. It seemed so despicable and mean. I felt nothing but contempt,
but we are not contemptible; we have done no wrong. We needed each
other, and all the barriers in the world couldn't keep us apart. We are
sitting--like this!--but I don't feel that I am doing wrong. It helps
me. If I could meet you here--not often--just now and then for half an
hour, a quarter of an hour, and could put my head on your shoulder, and
feel your arms holding me tight--I could go on... I could be better--"

Peignton shook his head, and a dreary travesty of a smile passed over
his face. He was marvelling for the hundredth time at the extraordinary
difference between a woman's sense of honour, and that of a man. He
could have set his teeth and stolen his friend's wife, carrying her off
boldly in the face of the world, prepared to pay the price, but it would
have been impossible for him to continue a series of clandestine
meetings, however innocent, and still hold out the hand of friendship.
Cassandra was not the type of woman to desert her home and child. She
had made a vow, and she would keep it, yet she could declare that she
would be the stronger for such meetings. Poor darling! she meant it in
all sincerity. He would never allow her the misery of discovering her
mistake.

"No," he said firmly. "Never that, Cassandra. It has to be all or
nothing. There's no midway course possible for you and me. I love you;
there's nothing in the wide world that counts with me, beside you. If
you could trust yourself to me, I would swear to serve you until my
death, and it would be joy, the truest joy I could know. It is for you
to order, Cassandra, and I shall obey..."

He felt her shrink in his arms; her voice tre