No words could have been more commonplace, less in the category of dramatic or poetic welcome, but they were music to the boy, and when the actress looked at him with a ghost of a smile on her trembling lips, Dan was sure there was some kind of blessing in the greeting. “I am going to see you home,” he said with determination, and she caught at it: “Yes, yes, do! Will you?” The third member of the party had not spoken. A servant fetched him a light to which he bent, touching his cigar. Then he lifted his head—a handsome one—with its cold and indifferent eyes, to Letty Lane. “Good night, Miss Lane.” A deep color crept under his dark skin. “Come,” said the actress eagerly, “come along; my motor is out there and I am crazy tired. That is all there is about it. Come along.” Snatched from a marriage contract, still bitter from his jealous anger, this—to be alone with her—by the side of this white, fragrant, wonderful creature—to have been turned to by her, to be alone with her, the Duchess of Breakwater out of his horizon, Poniotowsky gone—Oh, it was sweet to him! They had rolled out from the Carlton down toward the Square and he put his arm around her waist, his voice shook: “You are dead tired! And when I saw that brute with you to-night I could have shot him.” “Take your arm away, please.” “Why?” “Take it away. I don’t like it. Let my hand go. What’s the matter with you? I thought I could trust you.” He said humbly: “You can—certainly you can.” “I am tired—tired—tired!” Under his breath he said: “Put your head on my shoulder, Letty, darling.” And she turned on him nearly as violently as she had on Poniotowsky, and burst into tears, crouching almost in the corner of the motor, away from him, both her hands upon her breast. “Oh, can’t you see how you bother me? Can’t you see I want to rest and be all alone? You are like them all—like them all. Can’t I rest anywhere?” The very words she used were those he had thought of when he saw her dance at the theater, and his heart broke within him. “You can,” he stammered, “rest right here. God knows I want you to rest more than anything. I won’t touch you or breathe again or do anything you don’t want me to.” She covered her face with her hands and sat so without speaking to him. The light in her motor shone over her like a kindly star, as, wrapped in her filmy things she lay, a white rose blown into a sheltered nook. After a little she wiped her eyes and said more naturally: “You look perfectly dreadfully, boy! What have you been doing with yourself?” They had reached the Savoy. It seemed to Dan they were always just driving up to where some one opened a door, out of which she was to fly away from him. He got out before her and helped her from the car. “Well, I’ve got a piece of news to tell you. I have broken my engagement with the duchess.”