sly kind throughout, but she had not felt
tempted to read it again. It contained no reference to their wedding,
save such as she chose to attribute to the concluding sentence: "We
can talk everything over when we meet." A sense of chill struck
her when she recalled the words. He was very kind, of course, and
invariably meant well; but she had begun to realise of late that there
were times when she found him a little heavy and unresponsive. Not
that she had ever desired any demonstration of tenderness from him,
heaven knew. But the very consciousness that she had not desired this
added to the chill. She was not quite sure that she wanted to see him
again before he sailed. Certainly he had never bored her; but it was
not inconceivable that he might do so. She shivered ever so slightly.
It was not an exciting prospect--life with Blake. He was quite sure to
be kind to her. He would consider her in every way. But was that after
all quite all she wanted? A great sigh welled suddenly up from the
bottom of her heart. Life was ineffably dreary--when it was not
revoltingly horrible.

"Shall I tell you what is the matter?" said Nick.

She started violently, and found him leaning across the flat rock
on which she was seated. His eyes were remarkably bright. She had a
feeling that he suppressed a laugh as his look flickered over her.

"Sorry I made you jump," he said. "You ought to be used to me by this
time. Anyhow you needn't be frightened. My venom was extracted long
ago."

She turned to him with sudden, unconsidered impulse. "Oh, Nick," she
said, "I sometimes think to myself I've been a great fool."

He nodded. Her vehemence did not seem to surprise him. "I thought it
would strike you sooner or later," he said.

She laughed in spite of herself with her eyes full of tears. "There's
not much comfort in that."

"I haven't any comfort to give you," said Nick, "not at this stage.
I'll give you advice if you like--which I know you won't take."

"No, please don't! That would be even worse." There was a tremor in
her voice. She knew that she had stepped off the beaten track; but she
had an intense, an almost passionate longing to go a little further,
to penetrate, if only for a moment, that perpetual mask.

"Don't let us talk of my affairs," she said. "Tell me of your own.
What are you going to do?"

Nick's eyebrows went up. "I thought I was coming to your wedding," he
remarked. "That's as far as I've got at present."

She