ng of clammy apprehension.
He had not locked his door, and now, across the grayness of the room,
he saw it slowly opening.

A hand was closed around the edge of the door--a woman's hand, small
and white and jeweled. Eric sat straight and tense on the edge of his
bed, peering across the room. A woman, young and slender, in a long,
trailing gown, came toward him smiling. It was Suzanne.

With a gasp, Eric watched her approach till she stood directly before
him.

"Suzanne! You are asleep? Suzanne, shall I call John?"

He thought that perhaps he should not waken her; there were things one
must remember about sleep-walkers, but physicians scarcely believed
them.

Eric was puzzled, too, by her costume. It was not a night-robe she
wore, but an elaborate, trailing dress upon which embroideries in
silver shone faintly. Her short black curls were bound about three
times with strands of pearly beads, her slim white arms were loaded
with bracelets. The pointed toes of little shoes peeped beneath her
gown, little shoes of creamy leather. An amethyst gleamed on each
shoe.

The sight of these amethystine tips affected Eric strangely, much as
though he had looked at something hideously repulsive. He stood up and
put out a hand to touch Suzanne's arm.

"Suzanne," he said, gently. "Let me take you to John. Shall I?"

Suzanne looked up at him, and her brown eyes, usually so merry, were
deeply slumberous, not with sleep, but with a look of utter abandon.
She shook her pearl-bound head slowly, smilingly.

"No, not John. I want you, Eric."

"Mad! Suzanne must be mad!" was Eric's quick thought, but her caress
was swifter than his thought. Both jewel-laden arms about his neck,
Suzanne kissed him, her red lips pouting warmly upon his.

"Suzanne! You don't know what you're doing." He grasped both her hands
in his and with a haste that would have seemed ludicrous to him had he
viewed the scene in a picture-play, he hurried her out of his room and
across the hall.

Eric opened her door softly and with no gentle hand shoved Suzanne
inside her room. She seemed like a little animal in his grasp. She
hissed at him; clawed and scratched at his hand. But when he had shut
the door, she did not open it again, and after a moment he went back
to his own room.

* * * * *

His mouth set in a firm line, his heart beating fast, Eric locked his
door with a noiseless turn of the key. It was almost dawn, and the
g