Tombstone epitaph., 1918-02-03

fetch me some. and bring it to me
yourselff~
She sank back upon a divan rs she
spoke. John turned to leave the room,
but she called him back.
Come here" she invited. "close to
my side! I can wait for the cham
payne. Tell me. why you are SO silent7
And my dancing-that pleased your"
He felt the words stick In his throat.
your dancing was indeed wonderful"
he stammered.
1T was for you'll" she whispered, her
voice growing softer and lower. 1T
was for you danced. Did you not feel
itf"
Her arms stole toward him. The un-
natural calm with which she had fin
ished her dance seemed suddenly to
pass. Her bosom was rising and fall.
ing more quickly. There was . faint
spot Of color In her cheek.
ut was wonderful" he told her. Il
will get you the champagne"
Her lips were parted. She smiled
up at him.
Go quickly" she whispered. "and
come back quicklyl wait for you"
He left the room and passed out
again into the Picture gallery before
he had, the least idea where he was
The band was playing a waltz, and
one or two couples were dancing. The
people seemed suddenly to have be.
come like puppets in some strange
unreal dream. He felt an almost fever
ish longing for the open air. for o
long draft Of the fresh sweetness OF
the night, far away from this over.
heated atmosphere charged with un
namable things.
As he passed through the farther
doorway he came face to face with
the prince.
"where are you going?" the latter
asked.
''Mademoiselle Calavera has asked
me to get her some champagne" he an.
swered.
The prince smiled.
Il will see that It is sent to her al
once" he promised. You are in my
sanctum, are you not? You can pursue
your tete-a-tete there without inter
ruption. "You are very much envied."
"Mademoiselle Calavera Is there"
John replied. As for me. I am afraid
/ shall have to 60 now"
The smile faded from the princes
lips. His eyebrows came slowly to
gether.
You are leaving?' he repeated.
II must I" John insisted. II can,
help it. Forgive my behaving like q
boor. but l must go. Good nightI"
The prince stretched out his hand
but he was too late.
John found himself, after q few
minutes hurried walking. in Picca
dilly. He turned abruptly down Duke
street and made his way to st. James
park. From here he walked slowly
eastward. When he reached the
Strand, however. the storm In his sou
was still undated. He turned away
from the Milan. The turmoil Of hi:
passions drove him to the thoughts
Of flight. Half an hour later he en-
tered st. Pancras station.
"What time is the next train nortf
to Kendall or Carlisle?' he inquired.
The porter stared at him. Johns
evening clothes were spattered witt
mud, the raindrops were glistening OF
his coat and face, and his silk hat was
ruined. 1t was not only his clothes
however. which attracted the mans at
tention. There was the strained lool
Of a fugitive in Johns face. a fugitive
flying from some threatened fate.
The newspaper train at i've thirty
is the earliest. sir" he said. II dom
know whether you can get to Kenda
by It, but 1t stops at Carlisle"
John looked at the clock. There wa,
an hour to wait. He wandered abou
the station, gloomy, chill. deserted
The place sickened him, and he strollet
out into the streets again. By chanct
he left the station BY the same exi'
as on the day of his arrival in London
he stopped snort
How could he have forgotten, ever
for q moment? This was not the worl(
which he had come to discover. Thi!
was just some plague-s2ot upon which
he had stumbled. Through the murk,
dawn and across the ugly streets b,
looked into Louise's drawing-room. SIN
would be there waiting for him OF
the morrowl
LouiseI The thought Of her wa
like q sweet purifying stimuIant HI
felt the throbbing Of his nerve
soothed. He felt himself growing calm
The terror Of the last few hours VA
Ike Q nightmare which had passed. HI
summoned q taxicab and was driven Il
the Milan. His wan6efings for tn
night were over.
CHAPTER XII.