She appeared to hesitate, to be reluctant and preoccupied occupied. "What about?" she demanded distantly. But her dancing eyes betrayed her. "Business," he said, sententious. His gesture indicated a vigilant universe of eavesdroppers. "Nobody's but our own!" Nevertheless, there was none to spy upon them as he drew her gently by the waist, down the hall and into the back-parlour. She yielded with a charming diffidence. In his embrace the sense of power slipped unheeded from her ken; returned the deep, obliterating rapture of over-night. Lips that first submitted, soon gave in return, then demanded.... She clung heavily to him, a little faint and breathless with a vague and sweet and nameless longing.... At breakfast in a neighbouring restaurant, Matthias disclosed his plans for the day, involving a motor trip down along the north shore of Long Island, dinner at Huntington, a return by moonlight. Joan, enchanted by the prospect--the sum of whose experience outside Manhattan Island was comprised in a few trips to Coney Island--consented with a strange mingling of eagerness and misgivings; the thought of the cost troubled a conscience still haunted by memories of last night's prodigality. "I didn't know you had an automobile." "I haven't; I'm chartering one for the day." "But ... but ... won't it be awf'ly expensive?" "Don't worry, dear." "But, you know, you aren't--rich." "I'm a magnate of happiness, at all events: and today is _our_ day, the first of our love, sweetheart. For twelve long hours we're going to forget everything but our two selfish selves. Why fret about tomorrow? It always does manage to take care of itself, somehow. And frankly, I don't care to be reminded of its existence today; for tomorrow I work...." A day of quicksilver hours slipping ever from their jealous grasp; of hours volatile and glamorous: in Joan's half-dazed consciousness, a delectable pageant of scenes, sensations and emotions no sooner comprehended than displaced by others no less wonderful....