h a silver-headed old man, two hours ago an utter
stranger, but always henceforth to be affectionately quoted by Wolf as a
friend.

They indulged in the extravagance of a taxi-cab for the home trip. Norma
left Wolf still reading, after winning from him a kiss and a promise not
to "worry", and went to bed and to sleep. When she wakened, after some
nine delicious hours, he was gone; gone to Philadelphia, as it proved.

Breakfasting at ten o'clock, in a flood of sweet winter sunshine, she
put a brave face on the matter. She told herself that it was better that
Wolf should know, and only the part of true kindness not to deny what,
for good or ill, was true. The memory of his grave and troubled face
distressed her, but she reminded herself that he would be back on
Saturday, and then he would have forgiven her. She would see Chris
to-day, to-morrow, and the day after, and by that time they would have
said everything that there was to say, and they would never see each
other again.

For it was a favourite hallucination of theirs that every meeting was to
be the last. Not, said Chris, that there was any harm in it, but it was
wiser not to see each other. And when Norma, glowing under his eyes,
would echo this feeling, he praised her for her courage as if they had
resisted the temptation already.

"I've thought it all over, Chris," she would say, "and I know that the
wisest way is to stop. And you must help me." And when Chris answered,
"Norma, I don't see where you get that marvellous courage of yours," it
did not occur to Norma to question in what way she was showing courage
at all. She lived upon his praise, and could not have enough of it. He
never tired of telling her that she was beautiful, good, brave, a
constant inspiration, and far above the ordinary type of woman; and
Norma believed him.

On the day before Wolf's first week-end return from Philadelphia, Chris
was very grave. When he and Norma were halfway through their luncheon,
in the quiet angle of an old-fashioned restaurant, he told her why.
Alice was failing. Specialists had told him that England was out of the
question. She might live a year, but the probability was against it.
They--he and Norma--Chris said, must consider this, now.

Norma considered it with a paling face. It--it couldn't make any
difference, she said, quickly and nervously.

And then, for the first time, he talked to her of her responsibility in
the matter, of what their love meant to t