reaching for the book she had dropped, met. The quick
contact was galvanic to Garth. An unconquerable impulse possessed him.
If he was to risk death that night it was folly to shirk life to-day. So
his hand closed over hers while he sought for words.

After a moment he became aware of the impassivity of her fingers within
his violent grasp. He saw grave trouble and an unanswerable doubt
extinguish the excitement in her eyes. A premonition reached him. He
fought against it desperately. His voice swayed a little.

"Don't look at me like that, Nora. You're going to marry me."

She shook her head. All at once there were tears in her eyes. Her hand
lightly brushed her black skirt.

"Jim, you've often asked me why I wear these dark clothes. Now you make
me tell you. I can trust you? Because no one knows unless my father
guesses."

He nodded. She spoke with an effort.

"For the man I was going to marry, Jim. You see he--he died."

Garth arose and turned to the window. He leaned there, staring at the
busy street, listening to its jarring discords. Among the children at
play one boy, unkempt and filthy, stood braced against a railing, crying
at the top of his lungs. In his abandonment to disappointment Garth
accepted the picture as typical of his life--a crying out for the
unattainable, a surrender to despair. The night's work lost its terror.
Its issue became a matter of callous indifference.

Then her hand was on his arm, drawing him around so that he saw her
face, which had lost its colour, and the growing doubt in her eyes.

"Try to understand, Jim. I think I scarcely do myself. I only know it
hurts to see you unhappy. Six months ago when you first came I never
dreamed a man could make even that much difference to me again."

Without warning the colour rushed back to her face. She clenched her
hands. The determination in her tone was overwhelming.

"Is that inconstancy to him? Don't think that. I'm not inconstant. I
wouldn't be that."

Garth waved his hand helplessly.

"What difference--Never mind, Nora. It's finished."

"But you--It's so unfair. And I want you for my friend."

She sat down, hiding her face.

"Later--I don't know. How can I tell? How can anybody?"

Garth saw her shoulders commence to shake. This emotion fired a tiny
hope, yet it angered him that she should suffer, too.

"Stop that," he said roughly. "It isn't worth it to you. I'm sorry I
spoke. I ought to have had better sense, but I'm g