the trouble of a defence, of pointing out that hers was not
the whole truth. What really mattered--he saw--was what she and those
like her thought. Such minds were not to be disabused by argument; and
indeed he had little inclination for it then.

"There's nothing in it."

By this expression he gathered she meant life. And some hidden impulse
bade him smile at her.

"There is this," he answered.

She opened her mouth, closed it and stared at him, struck by his
expression, striving uneasily to fathom hidden depths in his remark.

"I don't get on to you," she said lamely. "I didn't that other time. I
never ran across anybody like you."

He tried to smile again.

"You mustn't mind me," he answered.

They fell into an oasis of silence, surrounded by mad music and
laughter. Then came the long-nosed waiter carrying the beefsteak aloft,
followed by a lad with a bucket of ice, from which protruded the green
and gold neck of a bottle. The plates were put down, the beefsteak
carved, the champagne opened and poured out with a flourish. The woman
raised her glass.

"Here's how!" she said, with an attempt at gayety. And she drank to him.
"It's funny how I ran across you again, ain't it?" She threw back her
head and laughed.

He raised his glass, tasted the wine, and put it down again. A sheet of
fire swept through him.

"What's the matter with it? Is it corked?" she demanded. "It goes to the
right spot with me."

"It seems very good," he said, trying to smile, and turning to the food
on his plate. The very idea of eating revolted him--and yet he made
the attempt: he had a feeling, ill defined, that consequences of vital
importance depended upon this attempt, on his natural acceptance of the
situation. And, while he strove to reduce the contents of his plate, he
racked his brain for some subject of conversation. The flamboyant walls
of the room pressed in on every side; comment of that which lay within
their limits was impossible,--but he could not, somehow, get beyond
them. Was there in the whole range of life one easy topic which they
might share in common? Yet a bond existed between this woman and
himself--a bond of which he now became aware, and which seemed strangely
to grow stronger as the minutes passed and no words were spoken. Why
was it that she, too, to whom speech came so easily, had fallen dumb?
He began to long for some remark, however disconcerting. The tension
increased.

She put down her knife and