"You must settle that with her. You mustn't break faith. Anything is better than that. You must at any rate be utterly sure. She must love you—how can she help it? I wouldn't give you up!" said Fleda. She spoke in broken bits, panting out her words. "The great thing is to keep faith. Where is a man if he doesn't? If he doesn't he may be so cruel. So cruel, so cruel, so cruel!" Fleda repeated. "I couldn't have a hand in that, you know: that's my position—that's mine. You offered her marriage: it's a tremendous thing for her." Then looking at him another moment, "I wouldn't give you up!" she said again. He still had hold of her arm; she took in his blank alarm. With a quick dip of her face she reached his hand with her lips, pressing them to the back of it with a force that doubled the force of her words. "Never, never, never!" she cried; and before he could succeed in seizing her she had turned and, scrambling up the stairs, got away from him even faster than she had got away from him at Ricks. "If we have lost?" Fleda repeated as she paused again.!

"To you, of course—to enjoy, to keep for yourself." "Didn't you ask?" Mrs. Gereth spoke as if she might have said, "What then were you doing all the while?"

"So much that they're all, and that she can let everything else absolutely depend upon them?" Mrs. Gereth watched Fleda and considered. "You haven't any idea if they are waiting for the things?" She didn't understand. "About Mona?"