w better, just as it
has always known better, all through this wretched time of doubt and
misery and separation you've subjected us both to. And that was why I
couldn't trust myself to answer you; for if I had, I should have laughed
for joy. O Mary, Mary!" he cried, his voice softening, "my dear, dear
woman, you can't lie to love! You betray yourself in every dear word
that would be heartless, in every adorable gesture that would seem
final! And love knows better always.... Of course I shall be in that box
to-morrow night; of course I shall be there to witness your triumph! And
after you've won it, dear, I shall carry you off with me...."

He opened his arms wide, but with a smothered cry she backed away,
placing the table between them.

"No!" she protested; and the words were almost sobs--"No!"

"Yes!" he exclaimed exultantly. "Yes! A thousand times yes! It must be
so!"

With a swift movement she seized her muff and scarf from the chair and
fled to the door. There pausing, she turned, her face white and blazing.

"It is not true!" she cried. "You are mistaken. Do you hear me? You are
utterly mistaken. I do not love you. You are mad to think it. I have
just told you I don't love you. I am afraid of you; I daren't stay with
you for fear of you. I--I despise you!"

[Illustration: "I do not love you. You are mad to think it"]

"I don't believe it!" he cried, advancing.

But she was gone. The hall door slammed before he could reach it.

He halted, turned back, his whole long body shaking, his face wrung with
fear and uncertainty.

"Good God!" he cried--"which of us is right--she or I?"

XXI

BLACK OUT

Toward eight in the evening, after a day-long search through all his
accustomed haunts, Ember ran Whitaker to earth in the dining-room of the
Primordial. The young man, alone at table, was in the act of topping off
an excellent dinner with a still more excellent cordial and a
super-excellent cigar. His person seemed to diffuse a generous
atmosphere of contentment and satisfaction, no less mental than physical
and singularly at variance with his appearance, which, moreover, was
singularly out of keeping not only with his surroundings but also with
his normal aspect.

He wore rough tweeds, and they were damp and baggy; his boots were
muddy; his hair was a trifle disorderly. The ensemble made a figure
wildly incongruous to the soberly splendid and stately dining-hall of
the Primordial Club, with its spa