At times his state of uncertainty became intolerable. Then he resolved to go to her, take her hands in his, and looking into her eyes, ask for the truth. But the world's lessons of a conventional reserve, a well-bred reticence, asserted their claims, and he found himself contemplating, with ironical bitterness, this picture of his own simplicity. If they were deceiving him, how they would laugh--laugh together--at the folly of the pigeon they were plucking so cleverly! A life's experience, caution, cynicism, had gone down into dust before a girl's gray eyes. Could she be false and those eyes look into his so frankly and honestly? Could those lips, that folded on each other in curves so full of innocence and truth, be ready with words of hypocrisy and deceit? When he was with her such thoughts seemed madness; when he was away from her his belief seemed a miserable infatuation. After the colonel's last appearance he again determined to try and see her alone. This, he discovered, was not as easy of accomplishment as it had been on his first attempt. Arriving at the house at four o'clock, he rang repeatedly, but was not able to gain admittance. At last a small boy, who had been studying him through the bars of the gate, volunteered the information that the lady was out. Gault turned away, and coming down the flagged walk, asked the child if he knew what direction she had taken. "I dunno that," said the boy, "but she went out with her basket, and when she goes with her basket she generally stays a long while." Gault rewarded him for his information with a piece of money, and turned down the street toward the other side of town. It was a windy afternoon. The trades were just beginning, and their clear, chill sweep had already borne away some of the evil odors which hung about the old portion of the city. Gault could feel the touch of fog in their buoyant breath, and knew that long tongues of it like white wool were stealing in through the Golden Gate. The city was putting on its summer aspect--a gray glare, softened by the mingling of dust and haze that rode the breezes. Bits of paper, rags, and straws were collected at corners in little whirling heaps. Presently the mightier winds would come, winging their way across miles of heaving seas to rush down the street in a mad carouse, carrying before them the dirt and refuse and odors and uncleanness which mark the dwelling of man.