in. But a man of that sort does not ask a woman to marry him
over the telephone----"

"But Din thinks----"

"How long do you think you can stand inaction?"

"Not another hour, by God! I'm nearly mad as it is."

"I thought so. You are about the last man on earth equipped to play
the waiting game."

"You don't think she means to return here?"

"Never. She's too much of an artist for one thing. She might be
willing to begin a new chapter, but she knows that asterisks in the
wrong place are fatal. This interruption has done for your idyl!"

"I had thought the same thing." He sighed heavily.

"Oh, yes, Clavey dear, you are an artist yourself. No matter what
happens never forget that it is your destiny to be a great one."

"Artist be damned. If--if--God! if I lose her--I'll never write
another line."

"I don't doubt you think so. But you're only just beginning to know
yourself. You got a few glimpses, I should think, while you were
writing that play."

"Don't mention that play to me. I hate it. If I hadn't let myself go
with the damned thing I'd have had my wits about me and would have
married her off-hand."

"I wonder. Was she so very anxious to marry?"

He turned cold. Fear flared up again. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, I don't know that I mean anything. Except that like all women
she probably wanted to enjoy the thrilling hopes and fears and
uncertainties of that never to be repeated prelude, to the limit. Now,
better wake up Larsing and order the car if you mean to catch that
morning train. If you don't want to go back to bed I'll sit up with
you. You can sleep on the train."

LVIII

He left the next morning in a dense fog. As Larsing rowed him across
the lake he could not see its surface nor the wall of trees on the
opposite bank, and in a moment the camp was obliterated.

Only Gora and Larsing knew of his departure. Even Dinwiddie was still
asleep. Larsing had made him a cup of coffee, and Gora had packed his
bag, moving like a mouse in his room. She kissed him good-bye and
patted him on the back.

"I'll go out myself in a day or two," she said. "You may need me down
there."

The fog thinned gradually and the Ford made its usual comfortless speed
down the mountain. When they reached Huntersville the valley was
bathed in early morning sunlight, and Huntersville, asleep, shared the
evanescent charm of the dawn. It was a beautiful and a peaceful scene
and Cla