shoulder and was looking
critically at a scratch, which showed red, high up on her round, white
arm. A simple evening frock of old-rose colour, dainty old gold
slippers to keep her feet. Her skin was wonderfully white, her hair
dark and brown. This was cut straight across her forehead in French
fashion, and then brought down and away over the ears. Her face was
towards me, as she examined her arm. I could see she was very pretty.

"Don't you think you ought to apologize?" she said suddenly.

Her words took me by surprise. For a moment I did not answer.

"Eh?" she said, looking up.

"Yes," I said, "I do. Fact is, I haven't any, and the gardens are all
shut now."

"Any what?" she said, letting the sleeve slip back into its place.

"Garlands, Silvia."

She smiled for an instant. Then:

"How dare you come up like this?"

"I wanted to see what Silvia was like."

She stifled a little yawn.

"You heard me say she was holy, fair and wise."

"And excelling, I know. But the second verse asks,

"Is she kind as she is fair?"

"Well?"

"I came up to see if she was."

"And is she?"

"I don't think she is quite."

"Can you get down all right?"

"In fact, I'm sure she isn't," I said. "But then--"

"What?"

"She'd have to be most awfully kind to be that, Silvia. Good-bye."

"I say," said Silvia.

"Yes? I said, with one leg over the balustrade.

"As you're here, if you would like to come in and sit down for a
little--I mean, I don't want to seem inhospitable."

"I knew it," said I. "I knew she was, really."

"Goodbye, Silvia. Thank you very, very much all the same. I've found
out what I wanted to know."

I slipped over the coping and set my foot in the thong. There was a
rustle of silk and a quick step on the balcony. Then two soft hands
took hold of my wrists. I looked up at the big eyes, the face white in
the moonlight, the dark, straight-cut hair.

"Wait!" she said. "Who are you and where do you come from?"

"My name's Valentine," said I. "I am a gentleman of Verona."

The small mouth twitched. "Be serious," she said. I told her my name
and spoke of my run from Trieste, adding that I sought Fladstadt and
St. Martin. She heard me in silence. Then:

"Are you tired?" she said quietly.

"A little."

"Then I tell you that you may come in and rest for a while. Yes, and
talk to me. Presently you can go on. I will show you the way."

She let go my wrists and stood u