Never before in her life had she known this ecstasy of anticipation, so poignant as to be almost indistinguishable from pain. When Leslie came back to her, she thought that she must fall, and instinctively caught at his arm for support. Without speaking, he drew her away from the ring of light, into the deep shadow of a clump of trees. She stumbled against something in the sudden obscurity, and discerned the low railing that separated the ornamental shrubs and flower-beds from the crowded gravel paths. “Come,” said Leslie’s voice in her ear, hoarsely. They stepped together over the little railing on to the grass. Another few steps, and they were in an isolation as complete as though a curtain had fallen between them and the seething mass of talking, laughing, swaying people in the gardens. Even the sound of the band only reached them faintly as though from a great distance. Leslie Morrison halted abruptly, and they faced one another, their eyes already accustomed to the semi-darkness. By an impulse as inevitable as it was irresistible, they were in one another’s arms. Neither spoke a word whilst that long throbbing embrace endured. Through Elsie’s whole being flashed the wordless conviction: “_This_ is what I’ve been waiting for....” “Elsie,” whispered the man. “Elsie ... Elsie ... Elsie ... I love you!” “I love you,” she whispered back again. They stood clinging to one another, entwined, the hot summer darkness encompassing them. “What shall we do?” Morrison murmured at last. “I have no right to say a word to you, Elsie--I never meant to.” “What does it matter?” said Elsie recklessly. “Horace and I have never been happy together. I ought never to have married him. It’s you I belong to.” “My darling ... my sweetheart.” They kissed passionately, again and again. “What are we going to do?” Elsie pressed closer and closer against him. “Forget everything, as long as this holiday lasts, except that we can be together. It’s been so heavenly, Leslie! We can settle--something--later on, when it’s all over.” “I can’t let you go back to that man again. It would drive me mad.” “Take me away with you,” she whispered. “Oh, if I could ... if I only could, little girl!” They spoke as lovers talk, ardently, and tenderly, and with long silences. A sudden surging movement, and the distant sound of the National Anthem, penetrated at last to them through the darkness. “It’s all over!” Morrison cried, aghast. “Your sister?...” “I’ll manage her,” said Elsie. “Leslie ... once more....” Her mouth found his, and then she tore herself out of his arms. “Come with me.” Rapidly Elsie found her way to the little pay-desk outside the enclosure, in which the lights were already being extinguished. “She’s bound to come out this way.”