w disgracefully unmoral we are, here in your studio together at
three in the morning--" She stretched out a slim, white ringless hand,
and lifted the third finger for his inspection:

"Not a sign of a ring! Shame!" She turned her pretty, daring face to
his, eyes sparkling with audacity:

"Besides, I'm not going back to-night."

He said tranquilly: "I should think not."

"I mean it, Kelly, I simply won't go. And you may ring up the police and
every ambulance in town--and the fire department--"

"I've done it," he said, "but the fire department refuses to put you
out.... You don't mean to say you've finished!--after fasting all day
like a little idiot," he exclaimed as she sprang to her feet and pushed
away her chair.

"I have. I am _not_ an anaconda!" ... She passed swiftly into the outer
room where her own toilet necessaries were always ready, and presently
came back, leisurely, her hands behind her back, sauntering toward,
him with a provoking smile edging her lips:

[Illustration: "'Yes,' she said, 'it is really great.'"]

"You may retire when you like, Kelly, and tie your red cotton night-cap
under your chin. _I_ shall sit up for the sun. It's due in about an
hour, you know."

"Nonsense," he said. "We'll both, be dead in the morning."

"You offer me your guest-room?" she said in pretence of surprise. "How
_very_ nice of you, Mr. Neville. I--ah--will condescend to occupy
it--for this evening only--" Her eyes brightened into laughter: "Oh,
isn't it delicious, Louis! Isn't it perfectly heavenly to _know_ that we
are utterly and absolutely all right,--and to know that the world
outside would be perfectly certain that we are not? What a darling you
are!"

Still holding her hands behind her back she bent forward and touched her
lips to his, daintily, fastidious in the light contact,

"Where is that picture of 'Womanhood'?" she asked.

He drew out the easel, adjusting the canvas to the light, and rolled a
big chair up in front of it.

"Please sit there," she said; and seated herself on the padded arm,
still keeping her hands behind her back.

"Are you concealing anything from me?" he asked.

"Never mind. I want to look at your picture," she added slowly as her
eyes fell upon the canvas.

Minute after minute she sat there in silence, neither stirring nor
offering comment. And after a long time he moved restlessly in the
depths of the chair beside her.

Then she turned and looked down at him:

"Yes,"