He had meant to be careful. He had meant to see her only in the presence of others, but,--she knew him so well that she could have smiled,--to-day he had thrown prudence to the wind. Tenderness was in his voice, in his eyes, even while he kept tender words from his lips. It grew dusk while she lingered. The blue of twilight filled the windows, and a ruddy gleam from the stove lay along the floor. Anne sat down on the couch, and René settled cushions at her back. His hand touched her arm, and for a moment it rested there, before he turned abruptly away. Earlier in the day, Anne had spoken of returning to Dymfield. “You mustn’t go yet,” he broke out all at once. “You won’t leave Paris yet?” The words were an appeal, and his voice was not steady. “I came to see you,” said Anne deliberately. He turned to her sharply. It was too dark to see his face, but she heard the anxiety in his tone. “All of us--or me?” “To see you.” He threw himself on his knees beside her. “Anne,” he whispered, “stay. I want you. Will you marry me?” He had taken her hands and was holding them tight against his breast. “No, René.” The words were decisive, but she made no effort to release herself, and her hands rested quietly in his. “Sit here, beside me,” she said, moving a little on the couch. “I want to talk to you.” Wondering at something in her voice, he obeyed in silence, and she went on speaking, still very quietly. “I won’t marry you, dear, because I’m too old for you. I will never marry you. But if you want me, I will stay.” In his amazement, he let her hands drop, and bent forward to see her face. Quite quietly, Anne got up. “It’s very dark,” she said. “I’ll light the candles. I saw where you put the matches.” He watched her in a sort of stupor as she went to a side table for the matches, and lighted one after another of the candles in a sconce on the opposite side of the room. Did she know what she had said? Had he understood her? He sat staring at her as she reached up to the sconce, the movement throwing into relief the lines of her beautiful figure. When the last candle was lighted, she turned to him smiling. “No. You haven’t misunderstood me,” she said. “Now you can see my face you will know you have not.” She came swiftly across the room, and sat down beside him. “Listen, René. I will not marry you, for many reasons. Two months ago I was prepared never to see you again. But things have altered. I haven’t told you yet, but all my circumstances have changed. I’m a rich woman now, and my life is my own, to do what I like with it. And because I love you, I propose to give it to you, for a little while at least. As long as you want me. Until----” Her voice, quite calm and quiet at first, broke at the last words, and she paused abruptly. René sprang to his feet, and drew her quickly up from the sofa into his arms.