"How stifling the air is!" she remarked. "I'm glad to escape from the lighted room, yet am surprised that we obtain so little relief out here." "It is strange," Clancy replied. "I scarcely remember such a sultry evening. From what I've read I should be inclined to think it was an earthquake atmosphere, or else that it portended a storm." "Now don't croak," she said. "The stars are shining, and there is no sign of a storm. You have already proved that an earthquake cannot occur. You know the old saying about worry over what never happens. The true way to enjoy life is to take the best you can get out of it each day as it comes. Don't you think so?" "A very embarrasing question if I should answer it honestly," he replied, laughing. "How so?" Never had the brilliant fire in her eyes been so soft and alluring. She had detected a slight tremor in his voice, and had seen an answering fire in his eyes. Although conscious of a rising and delicious excitement in her own veins, she believed from much experience that in her perfect self-control she could prevent him from saying too much. Even if he did overstep the liberal bounds which she was willing to accord, she thought, "I can rally him back into our old relations if I so wish." What she did wish, she scarcely knew herself, and the thought passed through her mind, "I may accept him after all." He shared her mood, with the exception that he had decided long since to obtain her hand if she was disposed to give it. To-night, more than ever, he felt the recklessness which had been growing upon him, and was inclined to follow her lead to the utmost, even warily to go beyond such encouragement as he might receive. He therefore replied vaguely, "One may wish the best in life, and not be able to obtain it." "I see nothing embarrassing in that commonplace remark." "There might be in its application." "Possibly. Who knows to what one and one make two might lead?--a murder, like enough." "Sometimes one and one make one." "How odd! Still more so, that you should indulge in abstruse mathematics this hot night." "That reminds me that a man is said to be merely a vulgar fraction till he is married, when he is redeemed into a whole number." "If I were equal to it, I'd get a pencil, and preserve such great nuggets of abstract truth." "When you are so concretely and distractingly enchanting, what other refuge is there for a man than the abstract?" "Is the abstract a refuge?" she asked, looking dreamily out over the dark waters of the harbor. "Perhaps it is. It certainly suggests coolness which should be grateful tonight." Then turning, and with a mirthful and provoking gleam in her eyes, he remarked, "I should think this weather would be just to your taste." "Why so?" "Oh, you have become enough of a Yankee to guess." "Would you say that even this furnace-like air cannot quicken my blood?" "My friend, I do not believe that anything could quicken your pulse one beat."