edge of the sea, looking at a
horizon that was utterly blank. What was she to do? Where was she to
go? ... Not yet a woman, and all the future lay about her in chaos....
Once more she went back in spirit to that room of Martin's which had
been made the very sanctum of Romance by young blood and moonlight and
listened to the plans they had made together for the discovery of a
world out of which so many similar explorers had crept with wounds and
bitterness.

"I'm going to make my mark," she heard Martin cry. "I'm going to make
something that will last. My father's name was Martin Gray, and I'll
make it mean something out here for his sake."

"And I," she heard herself say, "will go joy-riding on that huge
Round-about. I've seen what it is to be old and useless, and so I shall
make the most of every day and hour while I'm young. I can live only
once, and I shall make life spin whichever way I want it to go. If I
can get anybody to pay my whack, good. If not, I'll pay it
myself,--whatever it costs. My motto's going to be a good time as long
as I can get it and who cares for the price!"

Young fool, you young fool!

The boy followed her to the window, and the moonlight fell upon them
both.

"Yes, you'll get a bill all right. How did you know that?"

And once more she heard her answer. "I haven't lived with all those old
people so long for nothing. But you won't catch me grumbling if I get
half as much as I'm going out for. Listen to my creed, Martin, and take
notes if you want to keep up with me.... I shall open the door of every
known Blue Room, hurrying out if there are ugly things inside. I shall
taste a little of every known bottle, feel everything there is to feel
except the thing that hurts, laugh with everybody whose laugh is
catching, do everything there is to do, go into every booth in the big
Bazaar, and when I'm tired and there's nothing left, slip out of the
endless procession with a thousand things stored in my memory. Isn't
that the way to live?"

"Young fool, you young fool," she cried, with the feeling of being
forgotten and deserted, with not one speck on the blank horizon.
"You've failed--failed in everything. You haven't even carried out your
program. Others have paid,--Martin and Gilbert and Alice, but the big
bill has come in to you ... Who cares? You do, you do, you young fool,
and you must creep out of the procession with only one thing stored in
your memory,--the loss of Martin, Martin."