The weariness of dinner! What did it matter what the food was? What did it matter that a new family of quite nice English people had arrived, and sat near? A fresh young girl and a youth, and a father and mother. People who would certainly play billiards and probably bridge. What did anything matter in the world? Time must be got through, simply got through until ten o'clock--that was all.

At half-past nine he strode out and sat upon the bench. His thoughts went back in a constant review of the day. How she had looked, where they had sat, what she had said. Why her eyes seemed green in the wood and blue on the water. Why her voice had all those tones in it. Why she had been old and young, and wise and childish. Then he thought of the story of Undine and the lady's strange, snake's look when she had said: "I do not know men?--You think not, Paul?"

His heart gave a great bound at the remembrance. He permitted himself no speculation as to where he was drifting. He just sat there thrilling in every limb and every sense and every quality of his brain.

As the clocks chimed the hour something told him she was there above him, although he heard no sound.

Not a soul was in sight in this quiet corner. He bounded on to the bench to be nearer--if she should come. If she were there hiding in the shadows. This was maddening--unbearable. He would climb the balustrade to see. Then out of the blackest gloom came a laugh of silver. A soft laugh that was almost a caress. And suddenly she crept close and leant down over the ivy.

"Paul," she whispered. "I have come, you see, to wish you--good-night!"

Paul stood up to his full height. He put out his arms to draw her to him, but she eluded him and darted aside.

He gave a great sigh of pain.

Slowly she came back and bent over and over of her own accord--so low that at last she was level with his face. And slowly her red lips melted into his young lips in a long, strange kiss.

Then, before Paul could grasp her, or murmur one pleading word, she was gone.

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And again he found himself alone, intoxicated with emotion under the night sky studded with stars.




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