stricken folk and haven't much to give each other."

"After what I have just experienced, I'm inclined to believe the
contrary."

But she seemed little inclined to draw the logical consequences of her
action. Quietly she gave him his wonted cigarette, lit her own, and
sat down in her old place. With rounded lips she blew little clouds of
smoke against the table-cover.

"Whenever I regard you in this manner," he said, carefully feeling his
way, "it always seems to me that you have some silent reservation, as
though you were waiting for something." "It may be," she answered,
blushing anew, "I sit by the way-side, like the man in the story, and
think of the coming of my fate."

"Fate? What fate?"

"Ah, who can tell, dear friend? That which one foresees is no longer
one's fate!"

"Perhaps it's just the other way."

She drew back sharply and looked past him in tense thoughtfulness.
"Perhaps you are right," she said, with a little mysterious sigh. "It
may be as you say."

He was no wiser than he had been. But since he held it beneath his
dignity to assume the part of the jealous master, he abandoned the
search for her secrets with a shrug. The secrets could be of no great