e made for the door.

But Gilbert was there first. He locked it, drew out the key, put it in
his pocket and before she could turn towards the door leading to the
other rooms, he was there. He repeated the process with peculiar
deftness and when he saw her dart a look at the windows, he shook his
head.

"You can't jump through those screens," he said.

"It isn't fair," she cried.

"Have you been fair?"

"I shall shout for help."

"The nearest cottage is too far away for any one to hear you."

"What are you going to do?"

He went back to her. He was far too quiet and dignified and unlike
himself. She could have managed the old vain Gilbert. A scoffing laugh,
and he would have withered. But this new Gilbert, who looked at her
with such a curious, exalted expression--what was she to do with him?

"Joan," he said, "listen. This is the end or the beginning. I haven't
locked the doors and sent the servants away to get you into a vulgar
trap. I might have done it a few weeks ago, but not as I am now. This
is my night, my beautiful Joan. You have given it to me. After all this
fencing, as you call it, you are here with me alone, as far away from
the old foolishness as if you were out at sea. What I have to say is so
much a private thing, and what I may have to do so much a matter to be
treated with the profoundest solemnity that we must run no risk of
disturbance. Do you begin to understand, little Joan?"

"No," she said.

"I will explain it to you, then. You are very young and have been very
thoughtless. You haven't stopped to think that you have been playing
with a soul as well as a heart. I have brought you here to-night to
face things up simply and quietly and finally, and leave it to you to
make a choice."

"A choice?"

"Yes, between life with me or death in my arms."

III

All that was healthy and normal in Joan broke into revolt. There was
something erotic, uncanny about all this. Life or death? What was he
talking about? Her pride, too, which had never been put to such a test,
was up in arms against the unfairness and cunning of the way in which
she had been taken advantage of. She had meant to be kind and pay
something of her debt to this man, and it was a vulgar trap, whatever
he said in excuse. Let him dare to touch her. Let him dare. She would
show him how strong she was and put up such a fight as would amaze him.
Just now she had placed herself among those old people and old trees,
becau