"I was miserable and lonely; but I felt sure of myself and in helping you I found an interest in life. Lately, almost unconsciously, I've felt the change in you--the new meaning. I wanted to make sure and then be guided, since others had entered this--this fool's paradise of mine. You are very beautiful--the most beautiful woman, I think, that I have ever seen--and I know now that you are--the best! "Joyce--your beauty crazed me, and I had not forgotten Jude; I did not care!" "Stop!" The little cold hand was pressed against his lips, "you shall not! It was I who tempted you--you would have remembered--everything. It is you who must forgive me--I am going--now!" The slow, pitiful words fell lingeringly. "Going--where can you go?" Gaston stared dumbly at her. "I think Mr. Drew will help me. I am going to tell him everything--and he will--find a way." "You shall not!" Gaston drew her to his breast. The primitive rose within him. "There is another way. The only way. Drew shall not meddle in my affairs--nor yours. You will stay right here in your home until I return. I'm going to Filmer; he's the only one we need, he'll act for us both." "But--what then?" Joyce felt her heart stand still. "Then? why I'm going to find Jude. I'm going to buy him off--if necessary. He shall free you--and then--then!" Gaston held the pale face off from him and searched the wide, startled eyes. "And then?" The words fell into a question. "But how"--Joyce panted; "how could I feel sure this great thing you plan is not another--unselfish act? Suppose, oh! suppose--_she_, that--that other girl--should come back--what then?" "Hear me, Joyce. There is never going to be any one else. We are going back together--into that other life. Why, the possibility almost blinds me. "They shall see what I've brought out of my experience. We'll make a place for ourselves and redeem the past. They shall seek us, my darling, and they shall see at last that I am master of my life!" His enthusiasm and exaltation carried Joyce along with him. "Dare I trust--not you--but myself?" she whispered. "After everything is said--I am--what I am!" "Yes--you are what you are!" Gaston pressed his lips against her trembling mouth. "And now, good-bye!" he released her, and led her toward her door. "I must make a few preparations--then get to Filmer. It's all very wonderful, but it is more true than wonderful. Until I come, then--and it may take time, dear--you will remember?" "Always--until you come--and after!" Gaston bent again, but this time he only pressed his lips to the soft, pale hair. When the door closed behind her; he stood for a moment dazed and bewildered. Mechanically he turned to the first task that lay at hand. He rebuilt the dead fire. It seemed symbolic, somehow, and he smiled. Then holding to the fancy that touched him, he piled on log after log. There should be no lack of warmth and glow in the new reincarnation.