quickly, surprised at herself,
deserted as she was. "I only want you to think a little more deeply
about all this."

He drew his hand across his forehead. "Think? I've thought until my
brain's hot, like an overheated engine."

She leaned forward. Spring was fighting her battle. "I'm not worth a
love like yours," she said. "I'm too young, too unserious. I'm not half
the woman that Alice is."

"You came to me in spirit that night in Paris. I placed yuu in my
heart. I've waited all these years."

"Yes, but there's Alice--no, don't turn away. Let me say what's in my
mind. This is a matter of life or death, you said."

He nodded. "Yes, life or death, together."

"Alice doesn't disappoint," she went on, the words put upon her lips.
"I may, I shall. I already have, remember. This is your night, Gilbert,
not mine, and whichever step we decide to take matters more to you than
to me. Let it be the right one. Let it be the best for you."

But he made a wild sweeping gesture. His patience was running out.
"Nothing is best for me if you're not in it. I tell you you've got me,
whatever you are. You have your choice. Make it, make it. The night
won't last for ever."

Once more she listened for the breaking twig and the light step. There
was nothing but the sound of the crickets and the frogs. Martin had
forgotten. He had heard, she was sure of that, but he didn't care.
Nature had its hand upon her arm, but she pushed it away. Her choice
was easy, because she wouldn't forget. She would be true to Martin.

"I've made my choice," she said.

"Joan, Joan--what is it?"

"I don't love you."

He went up to her, with his old note of supplication. "But I can teach
you, Joan, I can teach you, my dear."

"No. Never. I love Martin. I always have and always shall."

"Oh, my God," he said.

"That's the truth.... Please be quick. I'm very tired!" She drew
herself up like a young lily.

For a moment he stood irresolute, swaying. Everything seemed to be
running past him. He was spinning like a top. He had hoped against
hope, during her silence and her argument. But now to be told not only
that she would never love him but that she loved another man....

He staggered across the room to the sideboard, opened the drawer, and
the thing glistened in his hand.

Joan was as cold as ice. "I will be true," she whispered to herself. "I
will be true. Martin, oh, Martin."

With a superhuman effort Gilbert caught hold of himself. The cold t