re and
there with a film of lace. Lorry was fascinated by her full, rounded
arms, her beautifully strong wrists, and by the way in which she had
arranged her heavy, dark hair. In the daylight that afternoon he had
noticed that her eyes were blue. He had thought them brown. But they
were the color of wood violets untouched by the sun. While she lacked
the positive outdoor coloring of Dorothy, her complexion was radiant
with youth and health. Lorry felt subdued, disinclined to talk despite
Dorothy's obvious attempts to be entertaining. He realized that Dorothy
was being exceedingly nice to him, although he knew that she was a
little high-strung and nervous that evening.

After dinner Bronson and Lorry smoked out on the veranda. When the
others came out, Bronson suggested that they have some music. Lorry
promptly invited them to his cabin.

"Alice plays wonderfully," said Dorothy.

Bronson, talking with Mrs. Weston, enjoyed himself. He had been isolated
so long that news from the "outside" interested him.

Lorry, gravely attentive to the playing, happened to glance up. Dorothy
was gazing at him with a most peculiar expression. He flushed. He had
not realized that he had been staring at Alice Weston; at her round,
white throat and graceful arms. But just then she ceased playing.

"Have you any music that you would like?" she asked Lorry.

"There's some here. I don't know what it's like. Some songs and dances
the boys fetched up for Bud."

"What fun!" said Alice. "And what an assortment! Shall we try this?"

And she began to play a flimsy tune printed on a flimsy sheet that
doubled and slid to the keys. Lorry jumped up, spread it out, and stood
holding a corner of it while she played. Close to her, he was sensible
of a desire to caress her hair, to kiss her vivid lips as she glanced up
at him and smiled. He had no idea then that she was deliberately
enthralling him with every grace she possessed.

The fact that she rather liked him made her subtleties all the more
potent. It flattered her to see the frank admiration in his gray eyes.
She knew he was anything but "soft," which made the game all the more
alluring. He was to leave soon--to-morrow. Meanwhile, she determined
that he should remember her.

Late that evening Bronson and the others said good-night. Alice, not
Dorothy, asked Lorry when he was to leave. His "some time to-morrow"
sounded unnaturally indefinite.

He was standing in the doorway of his camp as