igden, sincerely enough. "But a drink
we'll have; that's an excellent idea!"

But the counter was between them, and Theodore was the first to leave
the store; but on the threshold he stopped, and just turned to Moya for
an instant.

"By the way, you didn't see anybody else, I suppose?" said he.

There was an instant's pause. Then Moya committed her sin.

"Of course I didn't," were the words.

Theodore strolled over to the verandah. Moya waited behind as in
devotion while Rigden locked that fatal door for the last time.

"You see what you've brought me to!" she hissed. "But don't think it's
because I care a bit what happens to you--once I'm gone. And I _hate_
you for it--and I always shall!"

"Thank you," he said.

And that was all.

VII

A CAVALIER

Moya went to bed like one already in a dream. She smiled when she
realised what she was doing; there would be no sleep for her that night.
Yet she went through with the empty form, even to putting out the light
to rest her aching eyes. And in five minutes her troubles ceased for as
many hours; she had passed that pitch of excitement which is another
name for insomnia; she had reached the stage of sheer exhaustion, and
she reaped the recompense.

Spurred feet treading gingerly nevertheless awoke her towards dawn. It
was a bitter awakening. Further sleep was impossible, further rest
intolerable; besides, something must be done at once. It was an ordeal
to face, but sooner or later Theodore must be told, and then--good-bye!
Obviously the sooner the better, since the thing was settled between the
two whom it concerned; and Moya had the temperament which prefers to
precipitate the absolutely inevitable; but temperament for once was not
her lord. It was too hard!

Character came to the rescue. It must be done. And Moya dressed by
candle-light with a craven but a resolute heart.

Meanwhile the cautious footsteps and the low voices died away; and the
girl found a bare verandah, chill and silent as a vault in the twilight
of early morning. A lamp was burning in the dining-room, but the chairs
were pushed back, crusts left, and tea-cups half full. The teapot felt
quite heavy; and Moya took a cup and a bite before going to see whether
Theodore was awake. If not, she must wake him, for she could not wait.
But his room was deserted; his very boots were gone; and the craven
heart leapt, for all its resolution.

Moya returned to the verandah in time to see the n