He put an arm about her shoulder, and drew her head down on to his breast. “My dear,” he murmured. He sighed, and held her thus in a silence that was like a prayer, until, at length, she raised her face. “Do you know, Randal, that it is more years than I care to think of since last you kissed me, and then you vexed me by stealing what is now yours to take.” He was a little awed. But, after all, with all his faults, he was never one to yield to fear. They were married on the morrow, and their honeymoon was spent in that sequestration that the law exacted. Certified clear of infection at last, they were permitted to go forth to garner the honours that Fortune had stored up for Randal Holles to make amends for all that he had earlier suffered at her hands. THE END