we had a delightful time, as long as it lasted."

"But how about the other man?"

Kennedy shrugged his shoulders.

"I suppose it is the survival of the fittest," said he. "If he had
been the better man she would not have deserted him. Let's drop the
subject, for I have had enough of it!"

"Only one other thing. How did you get rid of her in three weeks?"

"Well, we had both cooled down a bit, you understand. She absolutely
refused, under any circumstances, to come back to face the people she
had known in Rome. Now, of course, Rome is necessary to me, and I was
already pining to be back at my work--so there was one obvious cause of
separation. Then, again, her old father turned up at the hotel in
London, and there was a scene, and the whole thing became so unpleasant
that really--though I missed her dreadfully at first--I was very glad
to slip out of it. Now, I rely upon you not to repeat anything of what
I have said."

"My dear Kennedy, I should not dream of repeating it. But all that you
say interests me very much, for it gives me an insight into your way of
looking at things, which is entirely different from mine, for I have
seen so little of life. And now you want to know about my new
catacomb. There's no use my trying to describe it, for you would never
find it by that. There is only one thing, and that is for me to take
you there."

"That would be splendid."

"When would you like to come?"

"The sooner the better. I am all impatience to see it."

"Well, it is a beautiful night--though a trifle cold. Suppose we start
in an hour. We must be very careful to keep the matter to ourselves.
If anyone saw us hunting in couples they would suspect that there was
something going on."

"We can't be too cautious," said Kennedy. "Is it far?"

"Some miles."

"Not too far to walk?"

"Oh, no, we could walk there easily."

"We had better do so, then. A cabman's suspicions would be aroused if
he dropped us both at some lonely spot in the dead of the night."

"Quite so. I think it would be best for us to meet at the Gate of the
Appian Way at midnight. I must go back to my lodgings for the matches
and candles and things."

"All right, Burger! I think it is very kind of you to let me into this
secret, and I promise you that I will write nothing about it until you
have published your report. Good-bye for the present! You will find me
at the Gate at twelve."

The cold, clear air was filled with