“You don’t want to go?” he asked. “I oughtn’t to say that.” She frowned thoughtfully. “It would be ungracious to Fluffy. But I don’t want to go much.” Then, letting her hand rest on his for a second: “It’ll make our good times that are coming all the better.” All the way to the station, like shy children, without owning to it, they were doing their best to comfort each other. “I’m glad I had that photograph taken.” “Was that why? Because----” “Meester Deek, I didn’t know you so well then. It didn’t seem so terrible to leave you. But--it was partly.” The tiffs and aloofness of yesterday seemed as distant as a life-time. “We were stupid to quarrel.” His tone invited her indorsement. “We’ll do it again,” she laughed. They swung into the Grand Central. She let him look to her luggage as though it were his right. It was nearly as good as being married to her. “Shall I take your ticket?” “Let’s get it together.” When they came to the window, she opened her bag and handed him the money. “Where to?” he asked. Then he remembered: “Why, you haven’t given me your address.” “To Springfield. Here, I’ll scribble out the address while you get the change. You’d better write your first letter to the theatre in care of Fluffy. I’ll send you the names of the other towns later.” At the barrier they met with an unexpected setback; the gateman refused to let him see her off. “Not allowed. You ought to have a pass.” It seemed hopeless. The man looked too righteous for bribery and too inhuman for argument. Desire leant forward: “Oh, please, won’t you let my brother----?” Slowly and knowingly the man smiled. He glanced from the anxious little face, doing its best to appear tearful, to the no less anxious face of Teddy. He scented romance and signed to them to go forward. So Teddy had proof that others could become weak when she employed her powers of fascination. He followed her into the train and sat down at her side. “I wish I were coming.” She gazed out of the window. He bent across to see her face. “Why, Desire, you’re----” “I’m silly,” she said quickly. “Parting with anybody makes me cry. Oh, dear, I wish I wasn’t going.” “Then don’t.” He covered her hand in his excitement. There was no time to lose. The conductor was calling for the last time; passengers were scurrying to get aboard. She considered the worth of his suggestion. “I must There’s Fluffy. But why don’t you come? You can get back to-night.” He wavered. She was always at her sweetest when saying good-by; if he went with her, she might get “tired” and become the praying girl again. He had almost made up his mind to accompany her when the train gave a preliminary jerk, as though the engine were testing its strength. “Oh, well, you know best.” Her expression was annoyed and her tone disappointed. “Only two weeks, after all.” “But two weeks without you.” He had not quite given up the idea of accompanying her. “Hurry up,” she said, “or you won’t get off.”