began to doubt whether the man had announced him at all.

Then, breaking the stillness with almost startling abruptness, he
heard a clear, high voice saying something at the top of the stairs
outside. A rhythmical SWISH of skirts, punctuated by the light PAT-
PAT of a girl tripping downstairs, brought him to his feet. A
moment later the curtains parted and she entered, holding out her
hand.

"Oh, I did keep you waiting such a long time!" she cried.

He stood holding her hand, suddenly unable to say a word, looking at
her hungrily. A flood of emotion, of which he had had no prevision,
swelled up within him to fill his throat. An almost irresistible
impulse all but controlled him to crush her to him, to kiss her lips
and her throat, to lose his fingers in the soft, shadowy fineness of
her hair. The crest of the wave passed almost immediately, but it
left him shaken. A faint colour deepened under the transparence of
her skin; her fathomless black eyes widened ever so little; she
released her hand.

"It was good of you to come so promptly," said she. "I'm so anxious
to hear all about the dear people at Redding."

She settled gracefully in one of the little chairs. Orde sat down,
once more master of himself, but still inclined to devour her with
his gaze. She was dressed in a morning gown, all laces and ribbons
and long, flowing lines. Her hair was done low on the back of her
head and on the nape of her neck. The blood ebbed and flowed
beneath her clear skin. A faint fragrance of cleanliness diffused