" said Suzanne thoughtfully. "You know we are running
a terrible risk. What if Mrs. Witla should find out, or mama? It would
be terrible."

"I know it," said Eugene. "I suppose I ought not to be acting in this
way. But, oh, Suzanne, I am wild about you. I am not myself any longer.
I don't know what I am. I only know that I love you, love you, love
you!"

He gathered her in his arms and kissed her ecstatically. "How sweet you
look. How beautiful you are. Oh, flower face! Myrtle Bloom! Angel Eyes!
Divine Fire!" He hugged her in a long silent embrace, the while the car
sped on.

"But what about us?" she asked, wide-eyed. "You know we are running a
terrible risk. I was just thinking this morning when you called me up.
It's dangerous, you know."

"Are you becoming sorry, Suzanne?"

"No."

"Do you love me?"

"You know I do."

"Then you will help me figure this out?"

"I want to. But listen, Mr. Witla, now listen to me. I want to tell you
something." She was very solemn and quaint and sweet in this mood.

"I will listen to anything, baby mine, but don't call me Mr. Witla. Call
me Eugene, will you?"

"Well, now, listen to me, Mr.--Mr.--Eugene."

"Not Mr. Eugene, just Eugene. Now say it. Eugene," he quoted his own
name to her.

"Now listen to me, Mr.--now, listen to me, Eugene," she at last forced
herself to say, and Eugene stopped her lips with his mouth.

"There," he said.

"Now listen to me," she went on urgently, "you know I am afraid mama
will be terribly angry if she finds this out."

"Oh, will she?" interrupted Eugene jocosely.

Suzanne paid no attention to him.

"We have to be very careful. She likes you so much now that if she
doesn't come across anything direct, she will never think of anything.
She was talking about you only this morning."

"What was she saying?"

"Oh, what a nice man you are, and how able you are."

"Oh, nothing like that," replied Eugene jestingly.

"Yes, she did. And I think Mrs. Witla likes me. I can meet you sometimes
when I'm there, but we must be so careful. I mustn't stay out long
today. I want to think things out, too. You know I'm having a real hard
time thinking about this."

Eugene smiled. Her innocence was so delightful to him, so naive.

"What do you mean by thinking things out, Suzanne?" asked Eugene
curiously. He was interested in the workings of her young mind, which
seemed so fresh and wonderful to him. It was so delightful to find this
paragon of be