her the dish-washing
clatter of the kitchen was stilled, the noises from the bar were lost in
the ripple of the river; the scent of the grass killed the odor of stale
beer that wafted out through the open windows. The unshaded glare of the
lights behind her in the house was eclipsed by the crescent edge of the
rising moon. Dinner was over. Sidney was experiencing the rare treat of
after-dinner coffee.

Le Moyne, grave and contained, sat across from her. To give so much
pleasure, and so easily! How young she was, and radiant! No wonder the
boy was mad about her. She fairly held out her arms to life.

Ah, that was too bad! Another table was being brought; they were not to
be alone. But, what roused him in violent resentment only appealed to
Sidney's curiosity. "Two places!" she commented. "Lovers, of course. Or
perhaps honeymooners."

K. tried to fall into her mood.

"A box of candy against a good cigar, they are a stolid married couple."

"How shall we know?"

"That's easy. If they loll back and watch the kitchen door, I win. If
they lean forward, elbows on the table, and talk, you get the candy."

Sidney, who had been leaning forward, talking eagerly over the table,
suddenly straightened and flushed.

Carlotta Harrison came out alone. Although the tapping of her heels was
dulled by the grass, although she had exchanged her cap for the black
hat, Sidney knew her at once. A sort of thrill ran over her. It was the
pretty nurse from Dr. Wilson's office. Was it possible--but of
course not! The book of rules stated explicitly that such things were
forbidden.

"Don't turn around," she said swiftly. "It is the Miss Harrison I told
you about. She is looking at us."

Carlotta's eyes were blinded for a moment by the glare of the house
lights. She dropped into her chair, with a flash of resentment at the
proximity of the other table. She languidly surveyed its two occupants.
Then she sat up, her eyes on Le Moyne's grave profile turned toward the
valley.

Lucky for her that Wilson had stopped in the bar, that Sidney's
instinctive good manners forbade her staring, that only the edge of the
summer moon shone through the trees. She went white and clutched the
edge of the table, with her eyes closed. That gave her quick brain a
chance. It was madness, June madness. She was always seeing him even in
her dreams. This man was older, much older. She looked again.

She had not been mistaken. Here, and after all these months! K