"I mean--I'm mad to marry you. But how can I ask you to have me? What have I to offer you? The position of wife to a poverty-stricken, half-grown playwright! It's out of reason...." "But possibly--am I not the one to judge of that?" "No: I won't have you marry a man unable to provide for you in the way to which you've been educated. It's a point of honour--" "But I have--" "You must understand: I've got to be able--able!--to humour your every whim. With things that way--what of your own you choose to spend on yourself won't count. The issue is my ability to give you everything." "But that will come--" "When? I can't promise--I hardly dare hope--" "This new play isn't your only hope?" "No--" "Success or failure, you'll keep on?" "Certainly...." "Then it's only a question of time." "But you--how can I ask you to wait?" "There's no necessity--" "But it must be." He rose, unable to remain still. "Give me six months: I've got another piece of work under way--and others only waiting their turn. In six months I can--" "No!" The monosyllable brought him up sharply. He stared. Her white arms, radiant in that clear, unearthly light, lifted toward him. "If you want me, dear," she said in a voice tense with emotion--"it must be now--soon! To wait--six months--I--that's im--" The beautiful modulations of Helena Tankerville's voice interrupted. Standing in one of the windows to the card-room, she said simply: "An exquisite night." Then, coming out upon the terrace and seeing Venetia and Matthias, she moved toward them. "Oh, there you are, Jack. You're wanted indoors." Matthias, unable quickly to regain his poise, said nothing. Venetia answered for him, calmly: "He can't come." "What, dear?" "I say, he can't come, Helena. He's engaged." "Engaged!" Recovering, Helena bore down upon them with a little call of delight. "Not really!... O my dears! I'm so glad!" She gathered Venetia into her arms. IX Unremarked by any of these, Marbridge stepped out upon the terrace. He was light of foot like most men of his type; his voice, unctuous with the Southern drawl which he affected together with quaint Southern twists of speech, was the first warning they had of his approach. "This is surely one powerful' fine night. I don't wonder you-all like it better out here than--" He checked suddenly in both words and action: the women had started apart. "Why!" he added slowly, as though perplexed--"I hope I don't intrude...." His quick dark eyes shifted rapidly from Helena to Venetia, to Matthias, and again back to the women, during a momentary lull of embarrassment. Then Helena said quietly: "Not in the least. But this makes you the first to learn the news, Mr. Marbridge. Venetia and my nephew are engaged to be married." "Engaged--!" The man's chin slacked: his eyes widened; a cigarette fell unheeded from his fingers. He smiled a trace stupidly.