hough he felt shielded by
its roar as he stepped over the iron railing about the Fenn home and
came softly across the lawn upon the grass.

On the verandah, hidden by summer vines, he sat a moment alone, panting,
breathless, though he had come up but four steps, and had mounted them
gently. A rustle of woman's garments, the creaking of a screen door, the
perfume that he loved, and then she stood before him--and the next
moment he had her in his arms. For a minute she surrendered without
struggling, without protest, and for the first time their lips met. Then
she warded him off.

"No--no, Tom. You sit there--I'll have this swing," and she slipped into
a porch swing and finally he sat down.

"Now, Tom," she said, "I have given you everything to-night. I am
entirely at your mercy; I want you to be as good to me as I have been to
you."

"But, Margaret," he protested, "is this being good to me, to keep me a
prisoner in this chair while you--"

"Tom," she answered, "there is no one in the house. I've just called
Henry up by long distance telephone at the Secretary of State's office
in the capitol building. I've called him up every hour since he got
there this afternoon, to make him remember his promise to me. He hasn't
taken a thing on this trip--I'm sure; I can tell by his voice, for one
thing." The man started to speak. She stopped him: "Now listen, Tom.
He'll have that charter for the Captain's company within half an hour
and will start home on the midnight train. That will give us just an
hour together--all alone, Tom, undisturbed."

She stopped and he sprang toward her, but she fended him off, and gave
him a pained look and went on as he sank moaning into his chair: "Tom,
dear, how should we spend the first whole hour we have ever had in our
lives alone together? I have read and re-read your beautiful letters,
dear. Oh, I know some of them by heart. I am yours, Tom--all yours. Now,
dear," he made a motion to rise, "come here by my chair, I want to touch
you. But--that's all."

They sat close together, and the woman went on: "There are so many
things I want to say, Tom, to-night. I wonder if I can think of any of
them. It is all so beautiful. Isn't it?" she asked softly, and felt his
answer in every nerve in his body, though his lips did not speak. It was
the woman who broke the silence. "Time is slipping by, Tom. I know
what's in your mind, and you know what's in mine. Where will this thing
end? It can't go on t