f course, he understood.
It was another adventurous skater like himself, stolen down unawares
from hotel or chalet, and searching for the opening. At once, making a
sign and pointing with one hand, he turned swiftly and skated over to
the little entrance on the other side.

But, even before he got there, there was a sound on the ice behind him
and, with an exclamation of amazement he could not suppress, he turned
to see her swerving up to his side across the width of the rink. She had
somehow found another way in.

Hibbert, as a rule, was punctilious, and in these free-and-easy places,
perhaps, especially so. If only for his own protection he did not seek
to make advances unless some kind of introduction paved the way. But for
these two to skate together in the semi-darkness without speech, often
of necessity brushing shoulders almost, was too absurd to think of.
Accordingly he raised his cap and spoke. His actual words he seems
unable to recall, nor what the girl said in reply, except that she
answered him in accented English with some commonplace about doing
figures at midnight on an empty rink. Quite natural it was, and right.
She wore grey clothes of some kind, though not the customary long gloves
or sweater, for indeed her hands were bare, and presently when he skated
with her, he wondered with something like astonishment at their dry and
icy coldness.

And she was delicious to skate with--supple, sure, and light, fast as a
man yet with the freedom of a child, sinuous and steady at the same
time. Her flexibility made him wonder, and when he asked where she had
learned she murmured--he caught the breath against his ear and recalled
later that it was singularly cold--that she could hardly tell, for she
had been accustomed to the ice ever since she could remember.

But her face he never properly saw. A muffler of white fur buried her
neck to the ears, and her cap came over the eyes. He only saw that she
was young. Nor could he gather her hotel or chalet, for she pointed
vaguely, when he asked her, up the slopes. "Just over there--" she said,
quickly taking his hand again. He did not press her; no doubt she wished
to hide her escapade. And the touch of her hand thrilled him more than
anything he could remember; even through his thick glove he felt the
softness of that cold and delicate softness.

The clouds thickened over the mountains. It grew darker. They talked
very little, and did not always skate together. Of