nd at the beginning of the cliff path, they
seemed to plunge all at once into absolute darkness.

"Careful!" cried Wilson sharply. "You'll be over the cliff in a
minute, if you don't look out." And he put his hand through her arm.

The sea gleamed very faintly under the black sky as they turned their
backs on it and walked cautiously along the uneven path leading to the
main road. At the corner she stood still and withdrew her arm. "I can
manage all right now. It was so dark under the shadow of that wall.
Good night."

"Oh no. I can't let you go home alone. You would be walking into a
fence or spraining your ankle over a stone heap before you got to the
Cottage," he answered. "Come on." And he took her arm again. "There!
You see you are stumbling already."

She had trodden carelessly, disturbed by his touch, and she felt his
grasp strengthen--then felt some instinct in herself fighting against
it. "No. I'll go alone. I can quite well. I'd rather. I hate
bringing you so far out of your way." She spoke in short phrases,
nervously.

"Of course, I can't let you walk home by yourself in this," he said,
his assurance somehow increased by her fluttering nervousness. "Don't
be a silly girl. What are a few hundred yards to me one way or
another?"

"Oh well!" Caroline suddenly gave way, feeling she had been making
ridiculously too much of it. "Must be after eleven," she murmured.
"The Committee extended the time to eleven. I expect they'll wish they
hadn't, when it was such a cold night."

"I suppose they've been out after eleven before." But she knew by his
tone he was not thinking of what he was saying. All that they had
really to say to each other seemed to be passing through the electric
current which passed between his strong, warm fingers and the tingling
flesh of her arm--though they actually did discourse about Mr. Graham,
and the balloons, and the financial disappointment which the Gala must
have been to the Committee.

But near the gate of the Cottage Caroline resolutely withdrew her arm.
"Please don't come up the drive. I'd rather you didn't. Good night!"
She spoke in a low voice, hurriedly.

"Sure you're all right?" he said.

"Yes. Yes. Good night," she repeated.

He let her go a few steps, then she suddenly felt an arm of iron about
her, the brief touch of his lips on her cheek--heard his voice saying
with a queer accent of triumph: "I knew it would be like that!"

He was go