the white face of the girl as she stood in the shadows of the barn, with
its walls of roughly threaded pine trunks.

"But I have scarcely ever spoken to you in my life!" she protested,
looking at him in astonishment.

"It doesn't make any difference," he replied. "You know I am speaking
the truth. I think, in your heart, that you, too, know that these things
don't matter, now and then. Of course, you don't--you couldn't feel
anything of what I feel, but with me it's there now and for always, and
I want to have a chance, just a chance to make you understand. I'm not
really mad. I'm just--in love with you."

She smiled at him, still in a friendly manner, but her face had clouded.
There was a look in her eyes almost of trouble, perhaps of regret.

"I am so sorry," she murmured. "It is only a sudden feeling on your
part, isn't it? You have been so splendid to-night that I can do no more
than thank you very, very much. And as for what you have told me, I
think it is an honour, but I wish you to forget it. It is not wise for
you to think of me in that way. I fear that I cannot even offer you my
friendship."

Again there was a brief silence. The clamour of exclamations from the
little groups of people still filled the air outside. They could hear
cars coming and going. The man whom Hunterleys and Mr. Grex were tying
up was still groaning and cursing.

"Are you married?" Richard asked abruptly.

She shook her head.

"Engaged?"

"No!"

"Do you care very much for any one else?"

"No!" she told him softly.

He drew her away.

"Come outside for one moment," he begged. "I hate to see you in the
place where that beast tried to lay hands upon you. Here is your
necklace."

He picked it up from her feet and she followed him obediently outside.
People were standing about, shadowy figures in little groups. Some of
the cars had already left, others were being prepared for a start.
Below, once more the clouds had parted and the lights twinkled like
fireflies through the trees. This time they could even see the lights
from the village of La Turbie, less brilliant but almost at their feet.
Richard glanced upwards. There was a star clearly visible.

"The clouds are lifting," he said. "Listen. If there is no one else,
tell me, why there shouldn't be the slightest chance for me? I am not
clever, I am nobody of any account, but I care for you so wonderfully. I
love you, I always shall love you, more than any one else could. I