nce. Perish the
thought! But in the end--shucks! Confucius, wasn't it--that dear old
philosopher who could never find a king to try out his theories on--who
said:

"The great mountain must crumble.
The strong beam must break.
The wise man must wither away like a plant."

She nodded.

"I am afraid you will never become serious, Mr. Moore. And perhaps
that is one of the reasons why I've grown so--so fond of you in this
short while. If I could take life--and death--as stoically, as
happily, as you--oh, God!"

She shut her eyes. Tears were in their rims when she opened them again.

"Mr. Moore, I'll make a foolish confession, too, now. It is--I love
you. And in return----"

"I think you're the bravest girl in the world," said Peter, taking her
hands with a movement of quick penitence. "You--you're a brick."

"I guess I am," she sighed, looking moodily away. "A brick of clay!
Perhaps it is best to walk into the arms of your enemies the way you
do, with your head back and eyes shining and a smile of contempt on
your lips. If I only could!"

"Why speak of death on a day like this?" said Peter lightly. "Life is
so beautiful. See those red-and-yellow blossoms on the hill, near the
governor's place, and the poor little brats on that sampan, thinking
they're the happiest kids in the world. What hurts them, hurts them;
what pleases them, pleases them. They're happy because they don't
bother to anticipate. And think of life, beautiful old life, brimming
over with excitement and the mystery of the very next moment!"

"If I could only see that next moment!"

"Ugh! What a dreary monotony life would become!"

"But we could be sure. We could prepare for--for--well----" She threw
up her head defiantly. "For death, I'll say."

"But please don't let's talk of death. Let's talk of the fine time you
and I are going to have when we see each other again."

"Will there be another time, Peter?"

"Why, of course! You name that time; any time, any place. We'll eat
and drink and chatter like a couple of parrots. And you will forget
all this--this that is behind us."

Her teeth clicked.

"To-night," she said quickly. "I'll meet you. Let me see. On the
Desvoeux Road side of the Hong Kong Hotel balcony, the restaurant,
upstairs, you know."

"Right!" agreed Peter with enthusiasm. "Will we let husband go along?"

Her face suddenly darkened. She shook her head.

"I will be alone. So will you,