The conflict of emotions which had disturbed him during the night and morning were now renewed. Gilda did not notice the car which carried the Baroness von Sassniltz, but, with the intuition of a lover, she did notice that Raife's manner had drifted into an abstracted mood. He was thinking of his own anomalous position. He was worshipping at the shrine of a woman, whom he had detected in the act of "burgling" the jewels of his mother's friend. This took place in his own house, and not only had he allowed her to escape, but he was here to-day with her expecting to participate with her in a crime of a similar nature. The situation was hideous, and all the glory of the day in Versailles had departed. They walked along in silence for a while, until a passing taxicab arrested his attention, and he responded to the interrogative look of the driver by hailing it. They entered the taxi, and in response to the driver's query, "Where shall I drive, monsieur?" he said: "Drive to the cabaret of `Le Sans Souci,' at the end of the avenue, then to the left and about three miles along the main road. You will see it by a group of poplars, with a garden and a small lake in front." They had been to this little inn before, many times, and the blue-skirted and white-aproned old landlady was accustomed to their visits, and understood not only their simple requirements, but their desire for quietude. They sat in the simple, clean little room, with its dainty curtains, white napery and shining cutlery. The old lady fussed around for a while, chatting gaily, as is the wont of French landladies, whilst the bouillabaisse, cutlets, and superlative omelette were being prepared. An old punt lay moored at the foot of some moss-covered steps leading to the lake. Pond lilies and chickweed covered the surface of the shallows that led from the steps to the deeper waters, which flickered in the moonlight. Clumps of willows and ash threw their shadows and reflected in the silent pool. Raife took the pole of this ancient, dilapidated punt and steered Gilda, who sat on a narrow seat of rough wood that constituted the only seat. Her neat, grey costume, rich in material but unobtrusive, contrasted with the ashen grey-greens of the old roughly-hewn punt. Thus, he standing up piloting the strange craft, took her over the warm waters, until reaching a deep pool which his pole failed to fathom they came to a rest. Here and there a ghostly bat, after the manner of a miniature vampire, flickered through the air, chasing the lesser night insects whose hum harmonised with the rest of that which was silence.