"Dear, dear!" she sighed. "Only five minutes? Do you get rid of your
troubles so quickly? How nice to be a man, and to be able to settle
matters with such promptitude."

Bower was undeniably perplexed; but he held to his line. Unwavering
tenacity of purpose was his chief characteristic. "Meanwhile," he
said, "let us talk of the weather."

"A most seasonable topic. It was altogether novel this morning to wake
and find the world covered with snow."

"If the Maloja is your world, you must have thought it rather
chilling," he laughed.

"Yes, cold, perhaps, but fascinating. I went for a walk. You see, I
wanted to be alone, to think what I should do for the best. A woman is
so helpless when she has to fight a big, strong man like you. Chance
led me to the cemetery. What an odd little place it is? Wouldn't you
hate to be buried there?"

It was now Millicent's turn to be surprised. Not by the slightest
tremor did Bower betray the shock caused by her innuendo. His nerves
were proof against further assault that day. Fear had conquered him
for an instant when he looked into the gate of darkness. With its
passing from before his eyes, his intellect resumed its sway, and he
weighed events by that nicely adjusted balance. None but a man who
greatly dared would be sitting opposite Millicent at that moment. None
but a fool would have failed to understand her. But he gave no sign
that he understood. He refilled his glass, and emptied it with the
gusto of a connoisseur.

"That is a good wine," he said. "Sometimes pints are better than
quarts, although of the same vintage. Waiter, another half bottle,
please."

"No more for me, of course," murmured Millicent. "I must keep my
head clear,--so much depends on the next five minutes."

"Three, to be exact."

"Ah, then, I must use them to advantage. Shall I tell you more about
my early stroll?"

"What time did you go out?"

"Soon after ten o'clock."

"You saw--what?"

"A most exciting struggle--and--what shall I call it?--a ceremony."

Bower was silent for an appreciable time. He watched a waiter
uncorking the champagne. When the bottle was placed on the table he
pretended to read the label. He was thinking that Stampa's marriage
service was not so futile, after all. It had soon erected its first
barrier. Millicent, who had qualities rare in a woman, turned and
looked at a clock. Incidentally, she discovered that Spencer was
devoting some attention to the proceedings at