suspect she had known there was no catch? Impossible! This was no ballroom flirt, I told myself, and apologised for not being able to find a hook or button. She wrapped the cloak about her with a request for pardon at giving me so much trouble, and my murmured reply—the usual compliment about being willing to undertake such trouble for life—died on my lips as I looked into eyes that did not drop before mine in any coquettish play. If ever honesty shone on a woman's face, I saw it in hers. She sat on the far end of the seat I had motioned her to, and gazed in silence over the moonlit scene. It is a sweet night, and an ideal one for a lover's meeting, or, indeed, for an hour's flirtation with a pretty woman. But a nice married woman never flirts, and as for me, since Laura died I had not thought of another sweetheart.'
The major puffed at his cigar in silence for a few moments, and no one interrupted. It was an understood thing that when the major spoke of Laura he was to be allowed an undisturbed five minutes. Every one had come to understand that these minutes were devoted to the memory of Laura, and every
