r
nature; but...."

"Then you're not--offended?" he asked, sitting up.

"Why should I be?" The firelight momentarily outlined the smiling, half
wistful countenance she turned to him.

"But"--he exploded with righteous wrath, self-centred--"only a scoundrel
would force his attentions upon a woman, in such circumstances! You
can't get away from me--I may be utterly hateful to you--"

"Oh, you're not." She laughed quietly. "You're not; nor am I
distressed--because of the circumstances that distress you, at least.
What woman would be who received as great and honourable a
compliment--from you, Hugh? Only"--again the whimsical little laugh that
merged into a smothered sigh--"I wish I knew!"

"Wish you knew what?"

"What's going on inside that extraordinary head of yours: what's in the
mind behind the eyes that I so often find staring at me so curiously."

He bowed that head between hands that compressed cruelly his temples.
"I wish _I_ knew!" he groaned in protest. "It's a mystery to me,
the spell you've laid upon my thoughts. Ever since we met you've
haunted me with a weird suggestion of some elusive relationship, some
entanglement--intimacy--gone, perished, forgotten.... But since you
called me to supper, a while ago, by name--I don't know why--your voice,
as you used it then, has run through my head and through, teasing my
memory like a strain of music from some half-remembered song. It
half-maddens me; I feel so strongly that everything would be so straight
and plain and clear between us, if I could only fasten upon that
fugitive, indefinable something that's always fluttering just beyond my
grasp!"

"You mean all that--honestly?" she demanded in an oddly startled voice.

"Most honestly." He looked up in excitement. "You don't mean _you_'ve
felt anything of the sort?"

"No, I"--her voice broke as if with weariness--"I don't mean that,
precisely. I mean.... Probably I don't know what I do mean. I'm really
very tired, too tired to go on, just now--to sit here with you,
badgering our poor wits with esoteric subtleties. I think--do you
mind?--I'd better go in."

She rose quickly, without waiting for his hand. Whitaker straightened
out his long body with more deliberation, standing finally at full
height, his grave and moody countenance strongly relieved in the ruddy
glow, while her face was all in shadow.

"One moment," he begged humbly--"before we go in. I ... I've something
else to say to you, if I may."