ing for him, waiting fruitlessly. But
during the journey and after it, on the high Norman downs, always she
had him with her. Therein was the joy.

The places, new to her and fragrant, to which he took her interested
her very much, but very much, too, as accessories might. It was from
him that their real charm emanated. He also enjoyed himself, but less
rapturously, in a fashion more detached. He found time to busy himself
with the news of the world, with menus, with wines--occupations which
to her were extraordinary. Marie did not know what she ate; as for the
world, it was sublimated in him, a fact which she confided to him--of
which, if she had not, he would have been perfectly aware and which he
accepted at first as but a proper tribute to himself, but which ended
by boring him distinctly. An excess of anything disagrees with the
best.

The first symptoms of indigestion declared themselves in Paris. They
had there a large suite in a big hotel. So large was the suite that
frequently Marie could not find Loftus in it. He was off, returning
when he saw fit, refusing to be questioned, yawning at reproaches,
but otherwise perfectly civil, agreeing with her that it was not nice
to be left alone, yet leaving her alone whenever he felt like it.

On the Norman downs the fresh fragrance of life had put a higher color
on her cheeks, marking them with the flush of happiness and health.
But in this game of hide and nowhere to seek her face became pallid as
the curious white sky which in autumn stretches itself over Paris.
Then stealthily, like a wolf, winter approached. The cheerlessness of
it Loftus hated, as all New Yorkers do. To Marie, however, it was
welcome. It meant a return to the Arundel, where she felt that the
marriage so long delayed could not be further postponed.

The illusion was pleasant but not permanent. On re-emerging in the
noise and sunshine of New York Loftus ceased to bother himself with
the invention of excuses. He told Marie that his mother would not
listen to anything of the kind, a statement which, while frank, was
not exact. Mrs. Loftus had never heard of it, or for that matter, of
the girl, and Loftus saw no reason whatever why she should. Yet if not
frank, he was patient. Marie, on the other hand, took it all very
hard. Humiliation possessed her. By day it confronted her, spectrally.
At night it came to her, sat by her side, plucked at her sleeve, awoke
her. It was a thing she could not get away