ls, and I will kill him! He thinks
he has no longer any reason to hide and stay away--but, _nom de Dieu_,
he will see! I promise you that! Vinailles told me that Valmain would
be back the day after to-morrow, and"--he laughed out harshly--"the day
after to-morrow--"

"You are going to America," said Myrna calmly.

Jean's clenched fist, raised, remained motionless in mid-air. He
stared at her open-mouthed.

"To--to America!" he gasped.

"To be married there," supplemented Myrna composedly.

"To be married there!"--he repeated the words in his bewilderment like
a parrot.

"And to receive an ovation, to be accorded a triumph such as you have
never dreamed of." Her laugh trilled out deliciously. "You will see
how they do things in America!"

He was still staring at her in dumfounded amazement.

"To America--to be married--a triumph!" he mumbled dazedly. "But--but
who--"

"I did," said Myrna, laughing at him again. "Did you not remind me
that I had promised to tell you about our marriage to-day? Well, we
are to be married in America. Are you not delighted?"

"But--but, yes! _Mon Dieu_! But--but, yes!" stammered Jean helplessly.

"Well, then," said Myrna, puckering up her brows in prettily affected
deliberation, "I think, Monsieur Jean, you may kiss me--once."

-- X --

THROUGH THE FOG

With an angry tightening of his lips, as he caught sight of Myrna still
the centre of the same masculine _entourage_, Jean turned from the
window where he had paused for an instant to glance into the ship's
main saloon, transformed for the moment into a ballroom, and resumed
his moody pacing up and down the deck. He pulled his ulster more
closely about him, for the night was cold, lighted a cigarette and
puffed at it irritably, as he was forced to acknowledge the, for the
most part effusive, salutes that his fellow passengers went out of
their way to accord him, as in couples and groups they constantly came
and went between the saloon and the deck. Then, after another turn or
two, he tossed away his cigarette with a vicious jerk, sought out the
most secluded portion of the deck--a recess near the ship's
funnels--and, appropriating a steamer chair, flung himself into it.

He had barely ensconced himself there, however, when, with a muttered
oath, he sat angrily upright in the chair again. Was there no place on
the cursed ship where he could be alone for five minutes with his own
thoughts? He had left th