its suggestion of half mourning with the white face in
which the unsmiling red lips alone seemed warm with the rich blood of
life and passion.

Little Fyne was staying up there an unconscionable time. Was he
arguing, preaching, remonstrating? Had he discovered in himself a
capacity and a taste for that sort of thing? Or was he perhaps, in an
intense dislike for the job, beating about the bush and only puzzling
Captain Anthony, the providential man, who, if he expected the girl to
appear at any moment, must have been on tenterhooks all the time, and
beside himself with impatience to see the back of his brother-in-law.
How was it that he had not got rid of Fyne long before in any case? I
don't mean by actually throwing him out of the window, but in some other
resolute manner.

Surely Fyne had not impressed him. That he was an impressionable man I
could not doubt. The presence of the girl there on the pavement before
me proved this up to the hilt--and, well, yes, touchingly enough.

It so happened that in their wanderings to and fro our glances met.
They met and remained in contact more familiar than a hand-clasp, more
communicative, more expressive. There was something comic too in the
whole situation, in the poor girl and myself waiting together on the
broad pavement at a corner public-house for the issue of Fyne's
ridiculous mission. But the comic when it is human becomes quickly
painful. Yes, she was infinitely anxious. And I was asking myself
whether this poignant tension of her suspense depended--to put it
plainly--on hunger or love.

The answer would have been of some interest to Captain Anthony. For my
part, in the presence of a young girl I always become convinced that the
dreams of sentiment--like the consoling mysteries of Faith--are
invincible; that it is never never reason which governs men and women.

Yet what sentiment could there have been on her part? I remembered her
tone only a moment since when she said: "That evening Captain Anthony
arrived at the cottage." And considering, too, what the arrival of
Captain Anthony meant in this connection, I wondered at the calmness
with which she could mention that fact. He arrived at the cottage. In
the evening. I knew that late train. He probably walked from the
station. The evening would be well advanced. I could almost see a dark
indistinct figure opening the wicket gate of the garden. Where was she?
Did she see him enter? Was she somewhe