"He said, 'How long are you going to keep up that--that--'"

"That will do," I said severely. "Remember there is a gentleman
present." But my voice sounded queerly indeed to the ears most familiar
with its quality. Also it trembled, for her gaze, almost stern in its
questioning, had not released me.

"But how long _are_ you?" Her own voice had trembled, as mine did. She
might as well have used the avoided word. Her tone carried it far too
intelligibly. It was quite as bad as swearing. I tried twice before I
succeeded in finding my voice.

"I've _told_ you," I said desperately; "can't you see--that queen isn't
free?"

Swiftly--I regret to say, almost with a show of temper--she snatched the
four of diamonds from its lawful place and laid it brazenly far outside
the game.

"The creature _is_ free," she said crisply--but at once her arrogance
was gone and she drooped visibly in weakness.

So quickly did I rise from the table that the cards of the game were
hurled into a meaningless confusion. I stood at her side. I had lost
myself.

"Little Miss,--oh, Little Miss! I've a thousand arms all crying for
you."

Slowly she made her eyes come to mine--not without effort, for we were
close.

"I am glad we left you,"--she had meant to say "that arm," I judge, but
there was a break in her voice, a swift movement, and she suddenly said
"_this_ arm," with a little shudder in which she could not meet my eyes;
for, such as the arm was, she had finished her speech from within it.
Close I held her, like a witless moonling, forgetting all resolves, all
lessons, all treaties--all but that she was not a dream woman.

"Oh, Little Miss!" was all I could say; and she--"Calvin Blake!" as if
it were a phrase of endearment.

"Little Miss, that loss has put me out, but never has it been the
hardship it is now--one arm!"

I had not thought it possible for her to come nearer, but a successful
nestling movement was her answer.

"I feel the need of a thousand arms, and yet their strength is--"

"Is in this one." She completed my sentence with her own nestling
emphasis for "this one."

"Can you believe now, Little Miss?"

"Yes--you gave it to me again."

"Can you believe that I--I--"

"_That_ was never hard. I believed that the first evening I saw you."

"A womanish thing to say--I didn't know it myself."

But she laughed to me, laughed still as I brought her face nearer--so
near. Only then did her parted lips close tensely i