er, a golden autumn.
She must live and work and justify.

But how?

There was Gilbert watching the stars with a smile, calmly and quietly
and horribly waiting for her to make a choice, having slipped over on
the other side of the dividing line. A scream of fear and terror rose
to her throat. This quiet, exalted man, so gentle and determined, with
the look in his eyes of one who intended to own one way or the
other--Live? How was she to live? He had given her a choice between
something that was impossible and something that all Nature held her
back from. She was locked into a lonely house as far away from help as
though they were out at sea.

"We hold it death to falter not to die." The words seemed suddenly to
stand out in blazing letters over the mantelpiece, as they did in
Martin's room--Martin, Martin.... With a mighty effort she wound the
reins round her hands and pulled herself up. In this erotic and
terrible position she must not falter or show fear or exaggerate this
man's sudden derangement by cries or struggles. He must be humored,
kept gentle and quiet, and she must pray for help. God loved young
things, and if she had forgotten Him until the very moment of great
danger, He might forgive. She must, with courage and practicality, gain
time so that some one might be sent. The servants might return. Harry
Oldershaw might have followed them. He hadn't liked the look of
Gilbert. He had said so. But if that was too good, there was Martin,
Martin...

She saw herself sitting in a dressing gown on the arm of a chair in
Martin's room in the little New York house. She heard Martin come along
the passage with his characteristic light tread and saw him draw up
short. He looked anxious. "You wanted me?" she heard him say.

"I did and do, Marty. But how did you guess?"

"I didn't guess. I knew."

"Isn't that wonderful? Do you suppose I shall always be able to get you
when I want you very much?"

"Yes, always."

"Why?"

"I dunno. It's like that. It's something that can't be explained...."

Gilbert turned and smiled at her. She smiled back. Martin was not far
away, Martin. "How quiet the night is," she said, and went over to a
window. Hope gleamed like a star. And then, with all her strength and
urgency she gave a silent cry. "Martin, Martin. I want you, so much,
oh, so much. Come to me, quickly, quickly. Martin, Martin."

IV

The crickets and the frogs vied with each other to fill the silence
with s