w admirable they
had seemed! How sophistically she argued!

All this, Woodville had explained, must now cease. He tried with some
difficulty to point out to her that this innovation was because he loved
her, not less, but more. He could not trust himself, and did not intend
to try. She was so happy to think he had given up going to Athens that
she was only too glad to consent to anything.

* * * * *

This was the first time they had been alone since the compact. She
looked at him beamingly as they started on their drive.

"But I'm not going home," said Woodville.

"Aren't you? Where are you going?"

"To the Beafsteak Club. I'm dining with Mervyn, and we're not going to
dress. I'll take you home first, if you like."

"No," said Sylvia. "I shall drive you nearly as far as the Club, drop
you, and then go home by myself." She spoke decidedly, and gave the
direction to the cabman. She had calculated that it would be a longer
drive.

"It's twice as far!" she said with childish triumph. He looked at her
trusting, adoring eyes, her smiling, longing lips, and looked out of the
window. She put her hand on his arm, and he moved away quickly, almost
shaking her off. With a smile she sat as far from him as possible. They
began talking of all kinds of things--Sylvia talked most and most
gaily--then, gradually, they fell into silence.

It was the end of a warm April day; they passed quickly, in the jingling
cab, through the stale London streets, breathing the spring air that
paradoxically suggested country walks, tender vows, sentiment and
romance.... Was she hurt at his coldness? On the contrary, it seemed to
exhilarate her. So close, yet so absolutely separated--not in mind, but
by his will only--by that extraordinary moral sense of his, that was, to
her, in her innocence, a dark mystery. Sylvia never forgot that drive.
She felt one of those unforgettable moments of exalted passion, like the
attainment of some great height that one may never reach again. She
worshipped him.

As they reached the end of their drive, the personal magnetism was
almost too strong for her--she nearly took his hand again, but
resisted. The cab stopped.

"I should like to drive you back, Sylvia," he said, as he got out,
"but--it's better not."

"All right!--Good-bye! I suppose I shall see you to-morrow morning."

"I hate leaving you here," he said.

"Never mind!" She smiled brightly, and waved her hand. The c