He sat there stroking her hand foolishly. There were no words with which to answer her... Presently she put her lips close to his and he kissed her, and he knew then that only a woman who had tasted the bitter wormwood of infamy could put such purity into a kiss. How many times she must have hungered for this moment! How many times must she have felt her soul rising to her lips only to find it betrayed! He loved her for her words and he loved her for her silence. Once he would have sat waiting passionately for her to defend herself. He would have been tricked into believing that any course of action _could_ be justified. But she brought no charges, she placed no blame, she offered no excuse. "It isn't always necessity that drives a woman to the streets!" It took a great soul to be that honest. She might have reproached him, too, for his neglect of her--for his fear to take his happiness on any terms. But all she had said was, "You shouldn't have watched me like that ... it wasn't fair." He rose, finally, shaking himself into the world of reality again. "I must be going now," he said, quietly. "Storch will begin to be impatient." She picked a gilt hairpin from the floor. "Let me see if I've got everything straight. To-morrow at eleven o'clock I am to see Hilmer and tell him to postpone the launching. And to watch at the north gate for a man with a kodak... And then?" He reached for his hat. "If you do not hear from me you might come and look me up. I'll be at Storch cottage on Rincon Hill ... at the foot of Second Street. Anyone about can tell you which house is his." Her lips were an ashen gray. "You mean you'll be there ... _dead?_" "If you are afraid ..." "_Afraid!_" She drew herself up proudly. "Well ... there is danger for you, too... I should have thought of that!" "You do not understand even now." She went and stood close to him. "I _love_ you ... can't you realize that?" He felt suddenly abashed, as if he stood convicted of being a cup too shallow to hold her outpouring. "Good-by," he whispered. She closed her eyes, lifting her brow for his waiting kiss. The heavy perfume of her hair seemed to draw his soul to a prodigal outpouring. He found her lips again, clasping her close. "Good-by," he heard her answer. And at that moment he felt the mysterious Presence that had swept so close to him on that heartbreaking Christmas Eve at Fairview. CHAPTER XXII Storch was standing at the lodging-house door when Fred stepped into the street. "Well, what now?" Storch inquired, with mock politeness. "Let's go home!" Fred returned, emphatically.