written in her face," Stephen answered fiercely. "Women like her
breathe it from their lips when they speak, just as it shines out of
their eyes when they look at you. An actress, and a friend of the Prince
of Seyre! A woman who thought it worth her while, during her few hours'
stay here--" John had suddenly straightened himself. Stephen clenched
his teeth. "Curse it, that's enough!" he said. "She's gone, anyway.
Come, let's have our lunch!"

VI

Once more that long, winding stretch of mountain road lay empty under
the moonlight. Three months had passed, and none of the mystery of the
earlier season in the year remained. The hills had lost their canopy of
soft, gray mist. Nature had amplified and emphasized herself. The whole
outline of the country was marvelously distinct. The more distant
mountains, as a rule blurred and uncertain in shape, seemed now to
pierce with their jagged summits the edge of the star-filled sky.

Up the long slope, where three months before he had ridden to find
himself confronted with the adventure of his life, John Strangewey
jogged homeward in his high dog-cart. The mare, scenting her stable,
broke into a quick trot as they topped the long rise. Suddenly she felt
a hand tighten upon her reins. She looked inquiringly around, and then
stood patiently awaiting her master's bidding.

It seemed to John as if he had passed from the partial abstraction of
the last few hours into absolute and entire forgetfulness of the
present. He could see the motor-car drawn up by the side of the road,
could hear the fretful voice of the maid, and the soft, pleasant words
of greeting from the woman who had seemed from the first as if she were
very far removed indeed from any of the small annoyances of their
accident.

"I have broken down. Can you help?"

He set his teeth. The poignancy of the recollection was a torture to
him. Word by word he lived again through that brief interview. He saw
her descend from the car, felt the touch of her hand on his arm, saw the
flash of her brown eyes as she drew close to him with that pleasant
little air of familiarity, shared by no other woman he had ever known.

Then the little scene faded away, and he remembered the tedious present.
He had spent two dull days at the house of a neighboring landowner,
playing cricket in the daytime, dancing at night with women in whom he
was unable to feel the slightest interest, always with th