hat way before, and the
rapture was intolerable. Her lips were like living fire. He could not
take his own away. He forgot everything. All his strength, all his
self-control, deserted him. It crossed his mind that at this moment he
would willingly die. But the delight of it was so great that he could
scarcely withhold a cry of agony. At length Susie's voice reminded him
of the world.

'You'd far better go out to dinner instead of behaving like a pair of
complete idiots.'

She tried to make her tone as flippant as the words, but her voice was
cut by a pang of agony. With a little laugh, Margaret withdrew from
Arthur's embrace and lightly looked at her friend. Susie's brave smile
died away as she caught this glance, for there was in it a malicious
hatred that startled her. It was so unexpected that she was terrified.
What had she done? She was afraid, dreadfully afraid, that Margaret had
guessed her secret. Arthur stood as if his senses had left him, quivering
still with the extremity of passion.

'Susie says we must go,' smiled Margaret.

He could not speak. He could not regain the conventional manner of polite
society. Very pale, like a man suddenly awaked from deep sleep, he went
out at Margaret's side. They walked along the passage. Though the door
was closed behind them and they were out of earshot, Margaret seemed not
withstanding to hear Susie's passionate sobbing. It gave her a horrible
delight. The tavern to which they went was on the Boulevard des Italiens,
and at this date the most frequented in Paris. It was crowded, but Arthur
had reserved a table in the middle of the room. Her radiant loveliness
made people stare at Margaret as she passed, and her consciousness of the
admiration she excited increased her beauty. She was satisfied that amid
that throng of the best-dressed women in the world she had cause to envy
no one. The gaiety was charming. Shaded lights gave an opulent cosiness
to the scene, and there were flowers everywhere. Innumerable mirrors
reflected women of the world, admirably gowned, actresses of renown, and
fashionable courtesans. The noise was very great. A Hungarian band played
in a distant corner, but the music was drowned by the loud talking of
excited men and the boisterous laughter of women. It was plain that
people had come to spend their money with a lavish hand. The vivacious
crowd was given over with all its heart to the pleasure of the fleeting
moment. Everyone had put aside grav