r on earth
could induce him to return to those prison walls, and now he felt that
nothing could keep him away. Forty minutes of bliss in that snug little
runabout with Miss Bartlett, and the destination might be Hades for all
he cared.

It took but a few minutes to get to the garage and into the machine, and
then they were speeding out the avenue at a pace that would surely have
landed them in the police station had the traffic officer been on his
job.

Quin, doubled up like a jack-knife beside her, was drunk with ecstasy.
His expression when he looked at her resembled that of a particularly
maudlin Airedale. Having her all to himself, with nobody to interfere,
was an almost overwhelming joy. He longed to pour out his soul in
gratitude for all that she had done for him at the hospital; he burned to
tell her that she was the most beautiful and holy thing that had ever
come into his life; but instead he only got his foot tangled in the
steering gear, and muttered something about her "not driving a car bad
for a girl"!

But Eleanor was not concerned with her companion or his silent
transports. She evidently had something of importance on her mind.

"What time is the officers' mess?" she asked.

"About six. Why?"

"I want to catch Captain Phipps before he leaves the hospital."

Quin's glowing bubble burst at the word. She _was_ Captain Phipps' girl,
after all! She had simply pressed him into service in order to get a last
interview with the one officer in the battalion for whom he had no
respect.

The guard challenged them as they swung into the hospital area, but,
seeing Quin's uniform, allowed them to enter. Past the long line of
contagious wards, past the bleak two-story convalescent barracks, and up
to the officers' quarters they swept.

"You are not going in yourself?" Quin protested, as she started to get
out of the car.

"Why not? Haven't I been coming out here all the time?"

"Not at night--not like this."

"Nonsense. What's the harm? I'll only be a minute?"

But Quin had already got out, and was holding the door with a large, firm
hand.

"No," he said humbly but positively; "I'll go and bring him out here."

The unexpected note of authority in his voice nettled her instantly.

"I shall go myself," she insisted petulantly. "Let me out."

For a moment their eyes clashed in frank combat, hers angry and defiant,
his adoring but determined.

"Listen here, Miss Bartlett," he urged. "The men wouldn