quiet voice said.

She started out of what was almost a stupor of grief, to find a man's
figure standing close to her. Her eyes were all blinded by weeping, and
she could see him but vaguely in the dimness. She had not heard him
approach. He seemed to appear from nowhere. Or had he, perchance, been
near her all the time?

Instinctively she drew a little away from him, though in that moment of
utter desolation even the sympathy of a stranger sent a faint warmth of
comfort to her heart.

"There is a chair here," the quiet voice went on, and as she turned
vaguely, almost as though feeling her way, a steady hand closed upon her
elbow and guided her.

Perhaps it was the touch that, like the shock of an electric current,
sent the blood suddenly tingling through her veins, or it may have been
some influence more subtle. She was yielding half-mechanically when
suddenly, piercing her through and through, there came to her such a
flash of revelation as almost deprived her for the moment of her
senses.

She stood stock still and faced him.

"Oh, who is it?" she cried piteously. "Who is it?"

The hand that held her tightened ever so slightly. He did not instantly
reply, but when he did, it was on a note of grimness that she had never
heard from him before.

"It is I--Pat," he told her. "Have you any objection?"

She gazed at him speechlessly as one in a dream. He had followed her,
then; he had followed her! But wherefore?

She began to tremble in the grip of sudden, overmastering fear. This was
the last thing she had anticipated. What could it mean? Had she driven
him demented? Had he pursued her to wreak his vengeance upon her,
perhaps to kill her?

Compelled by the pressure of his hand, she moved to the dark seat he had
indicated, and sank down.

He stood beside her, looming large in the gloom. A terrible silence fell
between them. Worn out by sleeplessness and bitter weeping, she cowered
before him dumbly. She had no pride left, no weapon of any sort
wherewith to resist him. She longed, yet dreaded unspeakably, to hear
his voice. He was watching her, she knew, though she did not dare to
raise her head.

He spoke at last, quietly, without emotion, yet with that in his
deliberate utterance that made her shrink and quiver in every nerve.

"Faith," he said, "it's been an amusing game entirely, but you haven't
beaten me yet. I must trouble you to take up your cards again and play
to a finish before we decide who s