aring the sound, yet not knowing whence it came, he stopped again, and
so gave Annesley time to open the window.

"Knight!" she called, softly.

Then he came straight to her across the strip of lawn and up the two
steps that led to the loggia. She met him on the threshold and saw his
face deadly pale in the moonlight. Perhaps it was only an effect of
light, but she thought that he looked tired, even ill. Still he did not
speak.

"Knight, you almost frightened me!" she said. "I was afraid for an
instant you might be--might be----"

"A thief!" he finished for her.

"Or a ghost," she amended. "Weren't you coming in?"

"No," he said. "I hadn't thought of it. Do you want--shall I come in?"

"Yes, please do. I--I've been waiting for you."

"I'm sorry! I hoped you'd have gone to bed. But I might have known you
wouldn't."

As she retreated from the window, he followed her, as if reluctantly,
into the room.

"Shall I draw the curtains?" he asked. There was weariness in his voice,
as in his face. Annesley's heart went out to her beloved sinner with even
more tenderness than before.

"No, let's talk in the moonlight," she answered. "Oh, Knight, I _am_ glad
you've come! I began to think you never would!"

"Did you? That's not strange, for I was saying to myself that same
thing."

"What same thing? I don't understand."

"That I--well, that I never ought to come to you again."

She sank down on a low sofa near the window, and looked up to him as he
stood tall and straight, seeming to tower over her like one of the pine
trees out there under the moon.

"Oh, Knight!" she faltered. "It's not--so bad as that!"

"Isn't it?" he caught her up sharply, eagerly. "Do you mean what you say?
Isn't it, to you--as bad as that?"

"No--no," she soothed him. "You see, I love you. That's all the
difference, isn't it? You've been everything to me. You've made my
life--that used to be so gray--so bright, so sweet. Only the blackest
thing--oh, an unimaginably blackest thing!--could come between us,
or----"

Before she could finish, he was on his knees at her feet, holding her in
his arms, crushing her against his breast, soft and yielding in her light
dressing-gown, with her flowing hair.

"My God, Annesley, it's too good to be true!" he said, his breath hot
on her face as he kissed her cheek, her hair, her eyes. "You can
_forgive_ me? I thought you'd go away. I thought you'd refuse to let
me come near you. I was walking out th