l it that. But the cards are marked and the game crooked--as crooked
as Herby's." He began to laugh. "The world's dice are loaded; I've got
enough."

"Yet you beat Bertie in spite of--"

"For Portlaw's sake. I wouldn't fight with marked cards for my own sake.
Faugh! the world plays a game too rotten to suit me. I'll drop my hand
and--take a stroll for a little fresh air--out yonder--" He waved his
arm toward the rising sun. "Just a step into the fresh air, Helen."

"Are you not afraid?" She managed to form the words with stiffened lips.

"Afraid?" He stared at her. "No; neither are you. You'll do it, too,
some day. If you don't want to now, you will later; if you have any
doubts left they won't last. We have no choice; it's in us. We don't
belong here, Helen; we're different. We didn't know until we'd tried
to live like other people, and everything went wrong." A glint
of humour came into his eyes. "I've made up my mind that we're
extra-terrestrial--something external and foreign to this particular
star. I think it's time to ask for a transfer and take the star ahead."

Not a muscle moved in her expressionless face; he shrugged and drew out
his watch.

"I'm sorry, Helen--"

"Is it time to go?"

"Yes.... Why do you stick to that little cockney pup?"

"I don't know."

"You ruined a decent man to pick him out of the gutter. Why don't you
drop him back?"

"I don't know."

"Do you--ah--care for him?"

"No."

"Then why--"

She shook her head.

"Quite right," said Malcourt, rising; "you're in the wrong planet, too.
And the sooner you realise it the sooner we'll meet again. Good-bye."

She turned horribly pale, stammering something about his coming with
her, resisting a little as he drew her out, down the stairs, and aided
her to enter the depot-wagon. There he kissed her; and she caught him
around the neck, holding him convulsively.

"Nonsense," he whispered. "I've talked it all over with father; he and
I'll talk it over some day with you. Then you'll understand." And
backing away he called to the coachman: "Drive on!" ignoring his
brother-in-law, who sat huddled in a corner, glassy eyes focused on him.

* * * * *

Portlaw almost capered with surprise and relief when at breakfast he
learned that the Tressilvains had departed.

"Oh, everything is coming everybody's way," said Malcourt gaily--"like
the last chapter of a bally novel--the old-fashioned kind, Billy, where