gs of homesickness. But although
they are all sufficiently versed in British politics, their interest is
very casual. Even national matters don't concern them particularly. What
absorbs them is the redemption of San Francisco; and after my
experiences last night I can't say I am surprised. The sort of municipal
government that permits and battens upon an unlimited variety of open
vice must devour the entire city in time. Mr. Toole informed me, in the
holy calm of his library, that reform is impossible; and certainly the
professional grafters seem to be one of the few productions of this
State whose energy is not demoralized by the climate. But that must make
the fight more interesting. And hardly a degree less menacing is this
gigantic octapus of labor unionism--of inexcusable socialism. Well, we
shall see! It makes one tingle."

"And do you never, in your inmost, contemplate returning to England?"
asked Isabel, curiously.

Gwynne swung about and planted his elbows on the railing, clasping his
hands about his head. For some moments he seemed absorbed in the mass of
lights at the foot of the black hill-side. "I don't know," he said,
finally. "It is possible that only my will keeps me from thinking about
it. It may be that, having made up my mind before leaving England, I
accomplished a final wrench and adjustment. I abstain from too much
self-analysis; but it is certain that down deep I often feel a tug at
familiar strings. I don't pretend to know myself, for after all what is
each one of us but the composite of the race, always at war with a spark
of individuality. Some fine morning I may wake up, order my trunk to be
packed, and take the first train out of California."

"Oh, might you?"

"Well, of course, I should stop and say good-bye to you. That is if I
did not fall into a panic at the thought of a final encounter with that
terrible will of yours." He turned and met a pair of eyes that were
shining like a cat's in the dark. "You know that you have been
manipulating the strings of my destiny!" he said, abruptly, and
surprised at himself. "I grew fearful of self-analysis and buried myself
in the law--jolly good antidote--but I am always conscious of a subtle
pressure on my will--was. I have thrown it off. It was either that or
leave."

"Perhaps you have felt freer since Saturday morning," said Isabel,
cruelly.

His own eyes glittered, but if he blushed the darkness screened him.
"Quite true," he said, dryly, "