rising.

The others laid aside cigars and followed him into the studio, where
already the gramophone was going and Aristocrates and Selinda were
rolling up the rugs.

* * * * *

Barres and Dulcie danced until the music, twice revived, expired in
husky dissonance, and a new disc was substituted by Westmore.

"By heaven!" he said, "I'll dance this with my godchild or I'll murder
you, Garry. Back up, there!--you soulless monopolist!" And Dulcie,
half laughing, half vexed, was swept away in Westmore's vigorous arms,
with a last, long, appealing look at Barres.

The latter danced in turn with his feminine guests, as in duty
bound--in pleasure bound, as far as concerned Thessalie.

"And to think, to _think_," he repeated, "that you and I, who once
trod the moonlit way, June-mad, moon-mad, should be dancing here
together once more!"

"Alas," she said, "though this is June again, moon and madness are
lacking. So is the enchanted river and your canoe. And so is that gay
heart of mine--that funny, careless little heart which was once my
comrade, sending me into a happy gale of laughter every time it
counselled me to folly."

"What is the matter, Thessa?"

"Garry, there is so much the matter that I don't know how to tell
you.... And yet, I have nobody else to tell.... Is that maid of yours
German?"

"No, Finnish."

"You can't be certain," she murmured. "Your guests are all American,
are they not?"

"Yes."

"And the little Soane girl? Are her sympathies with Germany?"

"Why, certainly not! What gave you that idea, Thessa?"

The music ran down; Westmore, the indefatigable, still keeping
possession of Dulcie, went over to wind up the gramophone.

"Isn't there some place where I could be alone with you for a few
minutes?" whispered Thessalie.

"There's a balcony under the middle window. It overlooks the court."

She nodded and laid her hand on his arm, and they walked to the long
window, opened it, and stepped out.

Moonlight fell into the courtyard, silvering everything. Down there on
the grass the Prophet sat, motionless as a black sphynx in the lustre
of the moon.

Thessalie looked down into the shadowy court, then turned and glanced
up at the tiled roof just above them, where a chimney rose in
silhouette against the pale radiance of the sky.

Behind the chimney, flat on their stomachs, lay two men who had been
watching, through an upper ventilating pane of glass, the sce