She was about to rush to his side, when she saw his clenched hands rise and fall upon the sand repeatedly. They struck her as cold and indifferent. "And now to dispose of our dead. ” He left her where she was, crying in the doorway. It would be very hard perhaps to make you understand just how I feel about it. The garçon was tipped as he had never been tipped before in his life. Taking the light, they then proceeded along the passage. Somehow to-night—I don’t know. So, very carefully, he raised her in his arms and carried her to her bed. She required no instructions from books; her wit and beauty were her own. But when she was thinking it over in her room that evening vague and baffling doubts came drifting across this conviction.
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