ack. My folks will be in Haydensville to-morrow
morning, and I've got to get back to meet them."

Her face clouded for an instant, but she tucked her arm gaily in his and
marched with him across the rotunda to the checking counter. When Hugh
had disposed of his bag, he suggested that they go to a little tea room
on Fifty-seventh Street. She agreed without argument. Once they were in
a taxi, she wanted to snuggle down into his arm, but she restrained
herself; she felt that she had to play fair.

Hugh said nothing. He was trying to think, and his thoughts whirled
around in a mad, drunken dance. He believed that he would be married
before he took the train back, at least engaged, and what would all that
mean? Did he want to get married? God! he didn't know.

When at last they were settled in a corner of the empty tea-room and had
given their order, they talked in an embarrassed fashion about their
recent letters, both of them carefully quiet and restrained. Finally
Hugh shoved his plate and cup aside and looked straight at her for the
first time. She was thin, much thinner than she had been a year ago, but
there was something sweeter about her, too; she seemed so quiet, so
gentle.

"We aren't going to get anywhere this way, Cynthia," he said
desperately. "We're both evading. I haven't any sense left, but what I
say from now on I am going to say straight out. I swore on the train
that I wouldn't kiss you. I knew that I wouldn't be able to think if I
did--and I can't; all I know is that I want to kiss you again." He
looked at her sitting across the little table from him, so slender and
still--a different Cynthia but damnably desirable. "Cynthia," he added
hoarsely, "if you took my hand, you could lead me to hell."

She in turn looked at him. He was much older than he had been a year
before. Then he had been a boy; now he seemed a man. He had not changed
particularly; he was as blond and young and clean as ever, but there was
something about his mouth and eyes, something more serious and more
stern, that made him seem years older.

"I don't want to lead you to hell, honey," she replied softly. "I left
Prom last year so that I wouldn't do that. I told you then that I wasn't
good for you--but I'm different now."

"I can see that. I don't know what it is, but you're different, awfully
different." He leaned forward suddenly. "Cynthia, shall we go over to
Jersey and get married? I understand that one can there right away.