They were over at the eastern corner of the pond, shadows sheltering them. Harry Lassett's "six foot one" towered above her five feet five, and made a woman of her. He had the round, "apple" face of a boy of twenty-four, vast shoulders, limbs of iron. His eyes were clear and lustrous, and his hair jet black. There was every quality which makes a quick, physical appeal to the other sex, and now, perhaps not for the first time, Gabrielle became acutely conscious of it. This was something totally apart from schemes for the world's good; something with which millionaires, were they British or American, had no concern whatever. Ten years of a boy and girl friendship culminated here. She tried to withdraw her fingers from Harry's grasp, but could not release herself; his breath was hot upon her forehead; she quivered at his touch, and then stood very still. "Why have I not got the right? Who has if I haven't?" "The right to what?" "To warn Apollo off. Gabrielle, I'm in love with you--you know it." She looked up; his eyes devoured her. "What is the good of our being in love?" "You don't mean to say you are thinking of the beastly money?" "Harry!" "Well, then, don't ask me. I've three hundred a year, and I'm going with Barlean in Throgmorton Street when the cricket season's over. That's a half-commission job, and my cricketing friends will rally round. If I tour Australia next year, they'll pay my expenses, and I'll make them pretty hot. We could be married when I come back, Gabrielle." She laughed, and half turned her head. "It's quite like a fairy story. And so mercenary! It's just like a business deal." "Well, your father will ask for a balance sheet, and there it is--totted up by 'Why not' and audited by 'Expectation.' Why don't you say something about it?" "Do you want me to say that you will always be my best friend?" "_Family Reading_--go on. Love and respect and esteem. I'm d----d if I stand it. This is what I think." He slipped his arms about her, and kissed her hotly upon the lips. She had never been kissed by a man before, and the swift assault found her without argument. She was conscious in a vague way that prudence should have made an end of all this upon the spot. Yet there was a physical magnetism before which she was powerless; an instantaneous revelation of life in its fuller meaning, of a sentiment which had nothing to do with prudence. "Harry!" she cried, and that was all. "Gabrielle, you love me--I feel that you do when you are near me." "How foolish it all is--how mad!" "I won't have that rot. Why, you are part of my life, Gabrielle." "Of course, we are very old friends----" "If you say any word like that I will take you out into the very centre of the pond and kiss you there. Come along and skate now. I feel quite mad."