on't cry! That's futile, too, when there is
anything else to be done. I don't suppose Trevor will be feeling
particularly jolly when he gets back from this show--though there's
something rather funny about it to my mind--and you'll have to cheer him
up. I suppose you won't be upset if I smoke?"

"What can you see funny in it?" questioned Chris.

He lighted his cigarette before replying. "My dear girl," he said then,
"I can't endow you with a sense of humour if you don't possess one. But
all this pomp and circumstance has got its funny side, I assure you.
Bertrand saw that; he was a philosopher. If he were here now, he would
snap his fingers and laugh."

"He might," Chris admitted. "At least, he called it a dream in the midst
of a great Reality."

"Which it is," said Max. "Get outside it all. Get above it if you can.
And you will see. Come, you mustn't grizzle. You don't seriously suppose
you've lost anything, do you?" He looked down at her suddenly, with a
smile in his shrewd eyes. "I say, you must get rid of that idea," he
said. "Even I know better than that. I believe in my own way I was almost
as fond of him as you were. But I knew he was going long ago, and that
nothing on earth could stop him. He knew it too. Between ourselves, I
don't think he much wanted to stop. But there was nothing unwholesome
about him. He wasn't a shirker. He played the game. And now you're going
to play it, eh? You're going to buck up. You're going to give Trevor a
sample of what the Wyndhams can do. I know we're a rotten tribe, but
we've got our points. In Heaven's name, let's make the most of 'em!"

He bent abruptly and kissed her.

"Life's all right," he said. "And so's the world. But you've got to get
used to the idea that it's not a place to stay in. It's no good sitting
down by the wayside to cry. You've got to look on ahead and keep moving.
It's the only possible way. If you don't, you get buried in every
sand-storm."

Chris reached up her arms and clasped him very tightly. "Max, tell me
Love doesn't die!"

"It doesn't," said Max stoutly.

"You are sure? You are sure?"

"Yes, I am sure."

"How do you know? Tell me--tell me!"

Chris's voice was piteous. Yet for a moment he was silent. Then, "I
know," he said, "by the way that chap faced death."

"Because he wasn't afraid?" she whispered. "Because he died so easily?"

"Because he didn't die," said Max.

* * * * *

Late that night the