ought of no one but ourselves, and now, all at once--"

Her eyes flashed up to his; she divined his thought, and it was as
though she put forth all her strength to ward off a physical danger.

"Oh, _mon cher_, and was it not your day--our day? Would you have marred
it with other thoughts?"

"No; but yet--"

"No! No!" She put out her hand, she pleaded with eyes and lips and
voice. "Look! Until this little cigarette is burned out!" She held up
the glowing tip. "When that is over, our day is over; then we return to
the world--but not until then. Is it--what do you say--a bargain?" Her
white teeth flashed, her glance flashed with the brightness of tears,
her fingers rested for a second upon his.

The restaurant was practically empty; a few summer tourists were dining
at tables close to the door, but Blake had chosen the farthest, dimmest
corner and there they sat in semi-isolation, living the last moments of
their day with an intensity that neither dared to express and that each
was conscious of with every beat of the heart.

Maxine laughed as she drew her second puff of smoke, but her laugh had a
nervous thinness. Blake filled their liqueur-glasses, but his gesture
was uneven and a little of the brandy spilled upon the cloth.

"A libation to the gods!" he said. "May they smile upon us!" He lifted
his glass and emptied it.

Maxine forced a smile. "The gods know best!" she said, but as she raised
her glass, her hand, also, trembled.

But Blake ignored her perturbation, as she ignored his. The coming
ordeal lay stark across their path, but neither would look upon it,
neither would see beyond the tip of Maxine's cigarette--the tiny beacon,
consuming even as it gave light!

A silence fell--a silence of full five minutes--then Blake, yielding
once more to the craving for the solace of contact, put his hand over
hers.

"Dear one, I know nothing of what is coming, but that I am utterly in
your hands. But let me say one thing. To-day has been heaven--the
golden, the seventh heaven!"

She said nothing, she did not meet his eyes, but her cold fingers
clasped his convulsively, and two tears fell hot upon their hands.

That was all; that was the sum of their expression. No other word was
spoken. They sat silent, watching the cigarette burn itself out between
Maxine's fingers.

She held it to the very last, then dropped it into her finger-bowl and
rose.

"Now, _mon cher_!" In the dim light she looked very tall and sli