er knee."

"Indeed?" said Hamilton politely; and Bones, remembering that the key
was well over on his side of the car, coughed, this time fiercely.

He switched the key from left to right, but nothing happened.

"Most extraordinary!" said Bones.

"Most," said Hamilton.

There was a pause.

"I think the road branches off a little way up I'll get down and see
which is the right road to take," said Bones with sudden cheerfulness.
"I remember seeing the old signpost before the--er--lamp went out.
Perhaps, Miss Marguerite, you'd like to go for a little walk."

Miss Marguerite Whitland said she thought she would, and they went off
together to investigate, leaving Hamilton to speculate upon the
likelihood of their getting home that night.

Bones walked ahead with Marguerite, and instinctively their hands
sought and found one another. They discovered the cross-roads, but
Bones did not trouble to light his match. His heart was beating with
extraordinary violence, his lips were dry, he found much difficulty in
speaking at all.

"Miss Marguerite," he said huskily, "don't think I'm an awful outsider
and a perfect rotter, dear old typewriter."

"Of course I don't," she said a little faintly for Bones's arm was
about her.

"Don't think," said Bones, his voice trembling, "that I am a naughty
old philanderer; but somehow, dear old miss, being alone with you, and
all that sort of stuff----"

And he bent and kissed her, and at that moment the light that never
went out came on again with extraordinary fierceness, as though to make
up for its temporary absence without leave.

And these two young people were focused as in a limelight, and were not
only visible from the car, but visible for miles around.

"Dear me!" said Bones.

The girl said nothing. She shaded her eyes from the light as she
walked back. As for Bones, he climbed into the driver's seat with the
deliberation of an old gentleman selecting a penny chair in the park,
and said, without turning his head:

"It's the road to the left."

"I'm glad," said Hamilton, and made no comment even when Bones took the
road to the right.

They had gone a quarter of a mile along this highway when the lamp went
out. It went out with as unexpected and startling suddenness as
before. Bones jingled the key, then turned.

"You wouldn't like to get out, dear old Ham, and have a look round,
would you?"

"No, Bones," said Hamilton drily. "We're quite comfortable."

"Y