ful," she said gravely, with a comprehensive wave of her muff.
And her simplicity thrilled him the more with the knowledge that she
shared his feeling. She drew up the fur collar of her cloak, shivered;
and, in the wordless harmony that pervaded them, they turned and
retraced their way.

The rhetoric mistress had left the office with a low turned lamp, and
Jasper Penny stopped, taking the furred wrap from Susan's shoulders. She
slowly untied the velvet strings of her bonnet, and laid it on the
table. She extended her hands toward him, and, taking their cool
slightness, he drew her to him. She rested with the fragrance of her
cheek against his face, with her hands pressed to his breast. They stood
motionless; he closed his eyes, and she was gone. He was confused in the
dimness empty except for himself, and fumbled with, his gloves. Susan's
wrap lay limply over a chair; the damp bonnet ribbons trailed toward the
floor. He looked slowly about, noting every object--a pile of folded
yellow papers, the stove, the globe bearing a quiver of light on its
varnished surface.

The willow trees and board above the entrance were dripping ceaselessly;
the lights of the city, increasing at its centre, like the discs of
floating sunflowers. If he slept he was unaware of it, the magic joy so
equally penetrated his waking and subconscious hours, the feeling of an
elevation higher than years and mountains was so strong. The morning, he
found, was again cold, and clear. He must go out to Jaffa, where new
blast machines demanded attention; but, the day after--

His thoughts were broken by a sharp rap on the outer door. Mr. Stephen
Jannan was below, and demanded to see him immediately. Stephen's
appearance at the hotel at that early hour, he recognized, was unusual.
But a glance at his cousin's serious aspect showed him at once that the
reason was urgent. Stephen Jannan, as customary, was particularly
garbed; and yet he had an expression of haste, disturbance. He said at
once, in the bedroom where Jasper Penny was folding his scarf.

"That young waster, Culser, Daniel Culser, was shot and killed in Mrs.
Scofield's house last evening."

The ends of the scarf fell neglected over the soft, cambric frills of
his shirt. Jasper Penny swallowed dryly. "At what time?" he asked.

"He was seen in the Old White Bear Tavern at about seven, then
apparently he went back to the woman's. The servant said he found the
body at something past nine, and th