over her, looked down upon her.

"This is the most awful nonsense," he said, with a grave half-laugh.

"It is my condition," said she. "You must start for Sampaolo to-morrow
morning."

"You 'll never really send me on such a fool's errand," he protested.

"You have promised," said she.

"You won't hold me to the promise."

"If I release you from it," she warned him, her eyes becoming
dangerous, "there must be no more talk of marriage between you and me."

He flung away from her, and resumed his walk about the room. He gazed
distressfully into space, as if appealing to invisible arbiters.

"This is too childish--and too cruel," he complained. "I 'm not an
idiot. I don't need an object-lesson. I am not utterly without
imagination. I can see Sampaolo with my mind's eye. And seeing it, I
decide in cold blood that not for forty million Sampaolos would I give
up the woman I adore. There--I 've made the journey, and come back.
Now I renew my suit. Will you have me?"

He stood over her again.

"There must be no more talk of having or not having between you and
me--till you have kept your promise," said Susanna, coldly avoiding his
gaze.

Anthony clenched his fists, ground his teeth.

"What folly--what obstinacy--what downright wanton capriciousness," in
anger he muttered.

"And yet, two minutes ago, this man said he loved me," Susanna
murmured, meaningly, to the ceiling.

"If I were n't unfortunate enough to love you, I should n't mind
your--your perfectly barbarous unkindness."

He glared at her. But she met his glare with a smile that disarmed it.
And, in spite of himself, he smiled too.

"Will you start to-morrow?" she asked, softly, coaxingly.

"This is outrageous," he said. "How long do you expect me to stay?"

"Oh, for that," she considered, "I shall be very moderate. A week will
do. A diligent sightseer should be able to see Sampaolo pretty
thoroughly in a week."

"A week," he calculated, "and I suppose one must allow at least another
week for getting there and back. So you exile me for a fortnight?"

His tone and his eyes pleaded with her.

"A fortnight is not much," said she, lightly.

"No," he gloomily acquiesced. "It is only fourteen lifetimes to a man
who happens to be in love."

"Men are reputed to be stronger than women," she reproached him, with a
look. "If a mere woman can stand a fortnight----!"

Anthony gasped--and sprang towards her.

"No, no," she cried, shrink