How could he say Yes? How, on the other hand, could he say No? He was between the highest she had ever taught him, and that common, blissful lethargy of the huddle on the neighbouring seat. Thus two Principles run through that multicoloured pattern of the world's web. It is a Law. Cosimo saw that it was a Law. He also saw that it was a hard one. Suddenly he did the most sensible thing he could have done. He rose. "Well, I'll walk along with you as far as your place," he said wearily. "I suppose I may do that?" "Yes," said Amory. She would not have had the heart to refuse him so little. They walked in silence, and stopped before the greengrocer's entry. "Mayn't I come up?" Cosimo asked. "No." "Oh, Amory! You can't mean never again?" "Never again, I think, Cosimo. I'm going up to think, and to gather my things together. I shall leave to-morrow or the day after." An "Oh!" broke from Cosimo's lips. So might a prisoner failingly exclaim who, having known that he must die at sunrise, should be ordered forth from his cell before the stars had begun to pale. "Good night--and good-bye," said Amory, smiling bravely as she held out her little hand. "Oh!... Not like this! Amory, I can't bear it!" "It must be borne. I see now that this had to come. I don't say you may not see me just once more." Even at that Cosimo caught eagerly. "When? To-morrow?" "No, not to-morrow; I shall be packing. Nor the day after; I shall be busy with the 'Barrage' Committee. I'll write to you, Cosimo." "Write!" "Do you get many letters such as I should write to you?" she asked gently. "I'll write, Cosimo; perhaps you may see me once or twice more." "Oh," Cosimo groaned, "however shall I get through the time!" The years they had spent together now seemed as nothing compared with these last eternal days before the new order, whatever it was to be, should begin. III EPITHALAMIUM