omething of that feeling which had roused her at midnight
from her bed and driven her to Grace Ferrall for a refuge from she knew
not what.

The rustle of her silken dinner gown was scarcely perceptible as she
turned. Siward, moving his head slightly, glanced up, then brought his
sketch to a brilliant finish.

"Don't you think something of this sort is practicable?" he asked
pleasantly, including Mrs. Ferrall and Katharyn Tassel in a general
appeal which brought them into the circle of two. Grace Ferrall leaned
forward, looking over Marion's shoulder, and Siward rose and stepped
back, with a quick glance into the hall--in time to catch a glimmer of
pale blue and lace on the stairs.

"I suppose my cigarettes are in my room as usual," he said aloud to
himself, wheeling so that he could not have time to see Marion's offer
of her little gold-encrusted case, or notice her quickly raised eyes,
bright with suspicion and vexation. For she, too, had observed Sylvia's
distant entrance, had been perfectly aware of Siward's cognizance
of Sylvia's retreat; and when Siward went on sketching she had been
content. Now she could not tell whether he had deliberately and
skillfully taken his conge to follow Sylvia, or whether, in his quest
for his cigarettes, chance might meddle, as usual. Even if he returned,
she could not know with certainty how much of a part hazard had played
on the landing above, where she already heard the distant sounds of
Sylvia's voice mingling with Siward's, then a light footfall or two, and
silence.

He had greeted her in his usual careless, happy fashion, just as she
had reached her chamber door; and she turned at the sound of his voice,
confused, unsmiling, a little pale.

"Is it headache, or are you too in quest of cigarettes?" he asked, as he
stopped in passing her where she stood, one slender hand on the knob of
her door.

"I don't smoke, you know," she said, looking up at him with a cool
little laugh. "It isn't headache either. I was--boring myself, Mr.
Siward."

"Is there any virtue in me as a remedy?"

"Oh, I have no doubt you have lots of virtues. ... Perhaps you might do
as a temporary remedy--first aid to the injured." She laughed again,
uncertainly. "But you are on a quest for cigarettes."

"And you?"

"A rendezvous--with the Sand-Man. ... Good night."

"Good night ... if you must say it."

"It's polite to say something ... isn't it?"

"It would be polite to say, 'With pleasure,