ring minarets of a mosque, and the long booths of the
bazaars. I smell the scent of the perfume-seller's stall, the heavy
sweetness of attar of roses.... I hear the tinkle of camel bells....
There comes a change.... I see a mountain-pass and a mule-train crawling
through the dust, I see the paths that go around the world. Which of our
pictures do you prefer?"

She gave a pained, low cry, and buried her face passionately on his
shoulder. "Oh, you know, you know!" she cried, in a piteous voice. "And
you love me, yet you tempt me to break my parole. If I could do it and
be freed of the responsibility! If a miracle could work itself!"

"Cara," he whispered, resolutely steadying himself, "don't forget the
gospel according to Jonesy. You can't dam up the tributaries of the
heart. Some day you must come to me. That much is immutably written. For
God's sake come now while the road is still clear. Otherwise we shall
grope our ways to each other, even if it be through tragedy--through
hell itself."

For a moment she gazed at him with wide eyes.

"I know it--" she whispered in a frightened voice. "I know it--and yet I
must go ahead."

He rose and lifted her; then as she stood clinging to him he said: "I
ask your forgiveness if I've made it harder--and one boon. Slip away
with me and give me an hour with you."

"They will find me. Pagratide and Von Ritz will find me," she objected
helplessly. "They won't let us be alone for long."

"Listen," he replied. "It is not too cold and the moon is brilliant. It
is the last real moon for me. Come with me in my car for a while."

"You must not make love to me," she stipulated. "I am going to try to
get my face properly composed--and if you make love to me, I can't.
Besides, when you make love I'm rather afraid of you. So you mustn't."

Then, with a wild spasmodic gesture, she caught the edges of his
cashmere cloak and gripped them tightly in both hands as she looked up
into his eyes and impetuously contradicted herself.

"Yes, please do," she appealed.

He laughed. "Destiny says I must make love to you," he asserted, "and
who am I to disobey Destiny?"

Outside, she insisted upon waiting by the bridge while he went for his
car. So he turned and started alone to the point on the driveway just
around the angle of the house, where McGuire, pursuant to previous
orders, was to be waiting with the machine. It had been only an hour
since Benton had slipped away from the dancers and cons