t_," he entreated,
"don't as you love your life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness,
breathe a word of my being here like this to any one--any
time--anywhere. I was an unmitigated ass to link you up with it. So
be wary."

"Oh, I shall!" Jinny Jeffries promised vividly and with a last look
about the old palace, the empty marriage throne and the dissolving
knots of guests, she gave a little nod to her veiled companion,
sauntered without visible trepidation past the staring eunuch at
the door, went down the long stairs where other departing guests
were drawing on mantles and veils, and so made her way across a
shadowy garden and out the gate that another black opened.

And then she drew a sudden breath of relief and glanced up at a sky
of sunset fires and felt the free airs play with her hair and face
and so shook off, lightly and gratefully, that darkening impression
of shuttered rooms and guarding blacks.

Little rivers of wine and fire were bubbling in Aimee's veins. She
was gay at supper, as a bride should be gay. It was enough, for
those first few moments, that she had seen him again, that he had
dared to come and try to help her--that he cared enough to come!

Her heart sang little paeans of joy and triumph. She sketched
impossible scenes of escape--she saw herself, in a shrouding mantle,
slipping with him past the guests at the door, she saw them speeding
away in a motor, she saw France, the unknown Delcasses--a bright,
gay world of freedom and romance.

Or, perhaps, if not to-night, then to-morrow.... They would plan ...
she would obtain permission to take a drive and there would be a
signal, a waiting car....

But, better now. She could not endure even the call of ceremony from
that man who called himself her husband. The very memory of his eyes
on her....

Decidedly, it must be to-night. And Ryder would think of a way. She
must get back to him ... he would be lingering. She must get away
from this hateful table, these guests and companions....

A wild impatience tore at her. She grew uneasy, anxious, fretted at
the frightening way that time was slipping past....

Her radiance vanished, her smile was nervous, forced, as she sat at
her table of honor, amid the circle of her friends, with a linked
wreath of candelabra sending its sparkle of lights over the young
faces and jewel-clasped throats, over the glittering silver on the
white satin cloth among the drift of pink and white rose petals.

She beg