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in letting go of that live wire which keeps us all keyed to one conventional monotone in the North. I let go--for a moment--to-night. _You_ let go when you said 'Calypso.' You couldn't have said it in New York; I couldn't have heard you, there.... Alas, Ulysses, I should not have heard you anywhere. But I did; and I answered.... Say good night to me, now; won't you? We have not been very wicked, I think." She offered her hand; smooth and cool it lay for a second in his. "I can't let you return alone," he ventured. "If you please, how am I to explain you to--the others?" And as he said nothing: "If I were--different--I'd simply tell them the truth. I could afford to. Besides we'll all know you before very long. Then we'll see--oh, yes, both of us--whether we have been foolishly wise to become companions in our indiscretion, or--otherwise.... And don't worry about my home-arrival. That's my lawn--there where that enormous rubber-banyan tree straddles across the stars.... Is it not quaint--the tangle of shrubbery all over jasmine?--and those are royal poincianas, if you please--and there's a great garden beyond and most delectable orange groves where you and I and the family and Alonzo will wander and eat pine-oranges and king-oranges and mandarins and--oh, well! Are you going to call on Mr. Cardross to-morrow?" "Yes," he said, "I'll have to see Mr. Cardross at once. And after that, what am I to do to meet you?" "I will consider the matter," she said; and bending slightly toward him: "Am I to be disappointed in you? I don't know, and you can't tell me." Then, impulsively: "Be generous to me. You are right; I am not very old, yet. Be nice to me in your thoughts. I have never before done such a thing as this: I never could again. It is not very dreadful--is it? Will you think nicely of me?" He said gaily: "Now you speak as you look, not like a world-worn woman of thirty wearing the soft, fresh mask of nineteen." "You have not answered me," she said quietly. "Answered you, Calypso?" "Yes; I ask you to be very gentle and fastidious with me in your thoughts; not even to call me Calypso--in your thoughts." "What you ask I had given you the first moment we met." "Then you _may_ call me Calypso--in your thoughts." "Calypso," he pleaded, "won't you tell me where to find you?" "Yes; in the house of--Mr. Cardross. This is his house." She turned and stepped onto the lawn. A mass of scarlet hibiscus
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