orted, unsightly thing,
sending out pale unhealthy shoots in the dark, unwholesome cellars of
our inner consciences. Norah's knowing was the cleanest, sweetest thing
about it."

"How wonderfully you understand her, and how right you are! Her knowing
seems to make it as it should be, doesn't it? I am braver already, for
the knowledge of it. It shall make no difference between us?"

"There is no difference, Dawn," said he.

"No. It is only in the story-books that they sigh, and groan and utter
silly nonsense. We are not like that. Perhaps, after a bit, you will
meet some one you care for greatly--not plump, or blond, or German,
perhaps, but still--"

"Doch you are flippant?"

"I must say those things to keep the tears back. You would not have me
wailing here in the street. Tell me just one thing, and there shall be
no more fluttering breaths and languishing looks. Tell me, when did you
begin to care?"

We had reached Knapfs' door-step. The short winter day was already
drawing to its close. In the half-light Von Gerhard's eyes glowed
luminous.

"Since the day I first met you at Norah's," he said, simply.

I stared at him, aghast, my ever-present sense of humor struggling to
the surface. "Not--not on that day when you came into the room where I
sat in the chair by the window, with a flowered quilt humped about my
shoulders! And a fever-sore twisting my mouth! And my complexion the
color of cheese, and my hair plastered back from my forehead, and my
eyes like boiled onions!"

"Thank God for your gift of laughter," Von Gerhard said, and took my
hand in his for one brief moment before he turned and walked away.

Quite prosaically I opened the big front door at Knapfs' to find Herr
Knapf standing in the hallway with his:

"Nabben', Frau Orme."

And there was the sane and soothing scent of Wienerschnitzel and
spluttering things in the air. And I ran upstairs to my room and turned
on all the lights and looked at the starry-eyed creature in the mirror.
Then I took the biggest, newest photograph of Norah from the mantel and
looked at her for a long, long minute, while she looked back at me in
her brave true way.

"Thank you, dear," I said to her. "Thank you. Would you think me stagey
and silly if I were to kiss you, just once, on your beautiful trusting
eyes?"

A telephone bell tinkled downstairs and Herr Knapf stationed himself at
the foot of the stairs and roared my name.

When I had picked up the receiver: "