tunity,
his chance to get away, to win out for himself in one last
master-stroke, and his mind was concentrated in that direction. The
time was ripe to tell these things to Mary Josephine. She must be
prepared.

On the flat table of the hill where Brady had built his bungalow were
scattered clumps of golden birch, and in the shelter of one of the
nearer clumps was a bench, to which Keith drew Mary Josephine.
Thereafter for many minutes he spoke his plans. Mary Josephine's cheeks
grew flushed. Her eyes shone with excitement and eagerness. She
thrilled to the story he told her of what they would do in those
wonderful mountains of gold and mystery, just they two alone. He made
her understand even more definitely that his safety and their mutual
happiness depended upon the secrecy of their final project, that in a
way they were conspirators and must act as such. They might start for
the west tonight or tomorrow, and she must get ready.

There he should have stopped. But with Mary Josephine's warm little
hand clinging to his and her beautiful eyes shining at him like liquid
stars, he felt within him an overwhelming faith and desire, and he went
on, making a clean breast of the situation that was giving them the
opportunity to get away. He felt no prick of conscience at thought of
Miriam Kirkstone's affairs. Her destiny must be, as he had told
McDowell, largely a matter of her own choosing. Besides, she had
McDowell to fight for her. And the big fat brother, too. So without
fear of its effect he told Mary Josephine of the mysterious liaison
between Miriam Kirkstone and Shan Tung, of McDowell's suspicions, of
his own beliefs, and how it was all working out for their own good.

Not until then did he begin to see the changing lights in her eyes. Not
until he had finished did he notice that most of that vivid flush of
joy had gone from her face and that she was looking at him in a
strained, tense way. He felt then the reaction. She was not looking at
the thing as he was looking at it. He had offered to her another
woman's tragedy as THEIR opportunity, and her own woman's heart had
responded in the way that has been woman's since the dawn of life. A
sense of shame which he fought and tried to crush took possession of
him. He was right. He must be right, for it was his life that was
hanging in the balance. Yet Mary Josephine could not know that.

Her fingers had tightened about his, and she was looking away from him.
He saw no