tep into it to avoid ruffling her
hair. Beverley obeyed, and when her arms had slid into the odd little
jewelled sleeves, she let Leontine draw her gently in front of a mirror.

"Madame is like a marvellous statue of ivory and silver," the maid
exclaimed. "But she should have some colour. If Madame--but no, it is
too late. There is a knock. It will be Monsieur. Shall I open the door?"

"Yes, open the door," Beverley echoed. Her voice sounded metallic and
unnatural in her own ears.

XXXVI

"WE DO THINGS QUICKLY OVER HERE"

"Is this heaven?" Clo wondered.

"No, you darling, it's not. It's our same poor old world; but it'll be
near heaven if you'll get well and live for me," said Justin O'Reilly.
Then it seemed to the girl that she heard a very odd, choking sound, and
on to her half-parted lips fell a drop of something hot. She tasted
this, and found it salt.

"You--you can't be crying?" she mumbled.

"I am." O'Reilly answered, "crying with joy. I don't remember doing it
before--in joy or sorrow. Here goes another tear! Sorry! I couldn't help
spilling it on you. Shan't happen again."

O'Reilly's face was close to hers. She smiled up at him. Everything
seemed strange except that he should call her darling. That, somehow,
was not strange at all. Nor was it strange that his head should be bent
over her upturned face. Yet he said it was the same poor old world!

"I thought I was dead," she explained.

"I thought so, too, for a minute, and it was the worst minute and the
worst thought I ever had. But you're alive. And you're going to live. I
tell you that on the doctor's authority. He and the nurse are having a
confab in the next room. In fact, when we saw you coming to all right,
after the anaesthetic (a bullet had to come out of your poor little
shoulder!) I asked them to leave me alone with you. I wanted to be the
first one your eyes saw. You're going to live for me, aren't you?
Because I adore you, you know!"

"I know," the girl echoed, floating on a strange, bright wave of joy.

"You know I adore you?"

"Something told me it would come out like that," she said. "In those
long days when I had to lie still in my room and listen to Kit and
Churn, another voice--so different from theirs!--seemed to say it in my
ear. Your message for me in the newspaper--I was sure it was for me--put
it into my head. I couldn't answer. But the message was the greatest
comfort! I didn't feel alone after that."

"Precio