ers.

His voice sounded oddly defiant, almost savage. But Jeanie was too
precipitate to notice it.

"Oh, please, will you go to Avery?" she begged breathlessly. "I think she
is frightened at the storm."

Piers left the piano with a single, lithe movement that carried him to
the window in a second. He passed Jeanie and was out on the terrace
almost in one bound.

He discerned Avery on the instant, as she discerned him. A vivid flash of
lightning lit them both, lit the whole scene, turned the night into
sudden, glaring day. Before the thunder crashed above them he had caught
her to him. They stood locked in the darkness while the great
reverberations rolled over their heads, and as he held her he felt the
wild beating of her heart against his own.

She had not resisted him, she did not resist him. She even convulsively
clung to him. But her whole body was tense against his, tense and
quivering like a stretched wire.

As the last of the thunder died, she raised her head and spoke.

"Piers, haven't you tortured me enough?"

He did not speak in answer. Only she heard his breath indrawn sharply as
though he checked some headlong word or impulse.

She stifled a great sob that took her unawares, and even as she did so
she felt his arms slacken. He set her free.

"There is nothing to be afraid of," he said. "Better come indoors before
the rain begins."

They went within, Jeanie pressing close to Avery in tender solicitude.

They turned on the lights, but throughout the frightful storm that
followed, Piers leaned against the window-frame sombrely watching.

Avery sat on a sofa with Jeanie, her throbbing head leaning against the
cushions, her eyes closed.

Nearly half an hour passed thus, then the storm rolled sullenly away; and
at last Piers turned.

As though his look pierced her, Avery's eyes opened. She looked back at
him, white as death, waiting for him to speak.

"Hadn't you better send Jeanie to bed?" he said.

Jeanie rose obediently. "Good-night, dear Avery."

Avery sat up. Her hand was pressed hard upon her heart. "I am coming with
you," she said.

Piers crossed the room to the door. He held it open for them.

Jeanie lifted her face for his kiss. An unaccustomed shyness seemed to
have descended upon her. "Good-night," she whispered.

He bent to her. "Good-night, Jeanie!"

Her arms were round his neck in a moment. "Piers, thank you for your
music, but--but--"

"Good-night, dear!" said Piers ag