carry me up all the way, Arnie?" she whispered. "I
am so tired to-night. You are sure that you can manage it?"

He laughed gayly.

"I have done it many times before," he reminded her. "To-night I
feel as strong as a dozen men."

One by one they climbed the flight of stone steps. Curiously enough,
notwithstanding the strength of which he had justly boasted, as they
neared the top of the house he felt his breath coming short and his
heart beating faster, as though some unusual strain were upon him.
She had tightened her grasp upon his neck. She seemed, somehow, to
have come closer to him, yet to hang like a dead weight in his arms.
Her cheek was touching his. Once, toward the end, he looked into her
face, and the fire of her eyes startled him.

"You are not really tired," he muttered.

"I am resting like this," she whispered.

He stood at last upon the top landing. He set her down with a little
thrill, assailed by a medley of sensations, the significance of
which confused him. She seemed still to cling to him, and she
pointed to his door.

"For five minutes," she begged, "let us sit in our chairs and look
down at the river. To-night it is too hot to sleep."

Even while he opened his door, he hesitated.

"What about Isaac?" he asked.

She shivered and looked over her shoulder. They were in his room now
and she closed the door. On the threshold she stood quite still for
a moment, as though listening. There was something in her face which
alarmed him.

"Do you know, I believe that I am afraid to go back," she said.
"Isaac has been stranger than ever these last few days. All the time
he is locked up in his room, and he shows himself only at night."

Arnold dragged her chair up to the window and installed her
comfortably. He himself was thinking of Isaac's face under the
gaslight, as he had seen him stepping away from the taxicab.

"Isaac was always queer," he reminded her, reassuringly.

She drew him down to her side.

"There has been a difference these last few days," she whispered. "I
am afraid--I am terribly afraid that he has done something really
wrong."

Arnold felt a little shiver of fear himself.

"You must remember," he said quietly, "that after all Isaac is, in a
measure, outside your life. No one can influence him for either good
or evil. He is not like other men. He must go his own way, and I,
too, am afraid that it may be a troublous one. He chose it for
himself and neither you nor I can h