pping wet. Come to bed." While helping Patricia to
undress she talked excitedly of going away.

"It's the only thing to do. This silly life is a waste of time. Why,
Pat, we have been making all kinds of locks to keep ourselves shut away
from freedom and the things we want. Some day we would want to get out
and we could not. I am going to be free, Pat--not smudgy."

Patricia paused in the act of getting into bed and remarked demurely:

"My God! Out of the mouths of babes and pet lambs---- Come, child, shut
your eyes. You make me crawl."

CHAPTER XIX

"_Queer--to think no day is like to a day that is past._"

When Joan and Patricia arose the following day they confronted life as
two criminals might who realized that their only safety lay in flight,
and that they must escape without running risks.

Patricia shuddered when the first mail was delivered. She rescued her
own letter--addressed to Joan--and raised her heart in gratitude that no
letter of angered remonstrance came from Burke.

But he might _come_; he might telegraph!

"My God!" Patricia exclaimed at noon time, "I cannot stand this, Joan,
we must vacate."

Joan was quivering with excitement, too--she was wild-eyed and shook
with terror at every step on the stairs.

Her ordeal of the day before had not merely devastated her beautiful
dreams, but it had, in a marvellous fashion, created an entirely new
outlook on life. She felt that once she was safe from any possible
chance of meeting Raymond, he might, spiritually, rise from the ashes
and eventually overcome the impression that would cling in spite of all
she could do. Intellectually she understood--but her hurt and shocked
sensibilities shrank from bodily contact with one who had forced the
fruit of knowledge so crudely upon her. The youth in her seemed to have
died, and it held all the charm and delight. The _woman_ of Joan made a
plea for the man, but as yet he was a stranger. More strange, even, than
the unnamable creature who had, for an hour, while the storm raged,
stood in her imagination like some evil thing between the woman who had
not fully understood and the woman who was never again to
misunderstand.

While she feared and trembled Joan could, already, recall the moment
when Raymond began to gain the victory over his fallen self. She knew
that he was always to be the master in the future. How she knew this she
could not have explained, but she knew! In all the years to come Raymon