They threaded their way through the crowd that lined the passage and the stairs, went through the brilliantly lit studio with its polished oak floor and wealth of hangings and costly decoration, into the models' dressing-room beyond, that had been turned into a small boudoir for the occasion. Many couples were wandering about the studio, examining the pictures and the china, but the dressing-room had escaped notice. “This is soothing after the glare,” said Clytie, sitting down restfully on a divan. Great palms screened the door, the room was hung with dark, heavy drapery, and between them shaded electric lamps shed a subdued light. Thornton sat down by her side. After a while the steps and talking in the adjacent studio ceased, and there rose from below the faint strains of the music and the dull rhythmic thud of the dancers. “What were we talking about? I forget,” said Clytie, after a short silence, and then, meeting his eyes fixed upon her, she turned away her head: “Don't! I can't bear it,” she murmured involuntarily. Then he caught her hand: “Clytie, you are adorable, glorious, bewitching!” he cried, and kissed her quickly, twice, on the corner of her lips. She snatched her hand away and started to her feet, pale and trembling, her eyes blazing. “Why did you do that? You have no right to do that!” He rose, went to her, caught her wrists again--but this time she was powerless to withdraw them, and he spoke in a quick, deep voice: “I have the right to kiss you--to kiss you and kiss you till the world's end--for I love you--and I would sacrifice all I have got--my life itself, for one kiss from you--I loved you, wanted you, from the first time I saw you--when the suddenly lit light revealed your beauty to me, and you sprang glorious, bewildering out of the darkness.” “Let me go, let me go!” she murmured, faintly struggling. “Not until you tell me that I have the right to kiss you--I know you will give it, you must! Clytie, I am stronger than most men, and my love is stronger than most men's and will not be denied--I will make you, force you to love me as passionately as I love you. Look at me. Speak! say just a word!” She flashed a swift, sidelong glance at him, and met his eyes with the light burning in their dark depths. His passion intoxicated her. “You know,” she murmured. The words came almost without volition. He released her hands. She remained standing for a moment, motionless with downcast eyes. Then she lifted them once more shyly, met his, and uttered a short gasping cry as he caught her in his arms and kissed her passionately. “You will be my wife, and let our whole lives be one long kiss?” “Yes,” she said, below her breath.