She led him into the parlour excitedly. It was dark there and she had to fumble around for matches to light the gas. She couldn’t find them. Gallagher offered his box. He lit a match. She went to take it from him. Their fingers touched. She started and stumbled over something. The match fell from his fingers and went out. He reached out his hands to catch her as she stumbled. He caught her by the wrists and held her tightly. They had not spoken a word. It was very queer in the darkness. Their faces were very close together, but they could not see one another. They stood still, each of them mastered by some strange impulse, that bound their tongues. They stood still, in the utter darkness and silence of the little stuffed room, for almost a minute. Then Gallagher spoke. He spoke in a soft whisper. The sound of his voice was soft and caressing. His lips were so close to hers that his breath came moist to her lips. There was a catch in his voice, as if the volume of sound were not strong enough to steady itself on the air. “Mary,” he said, “I want you to come to a Court of Inquiry with me to-night.” She made no attempt to reply. Neither did he seem to expect a reply. It seemed that the words and their implication were foreign to the purpose of their meeting here. It seemed that the coursing of their blood and the confused beating of their hearts, was in response to some prearranged assignation of declared love. But there had never been a question of amorous relations between them. They had never met in privacy like this before. Their previous meetings were more in the nature of quarrels. Mary had always disputed with Gallagher, particularly of late, when she had become violently opposed to him. But now in the darkness, in the solitude, both she and he were mastered by some amazing emotion that was inexplicable. “Dan,” she whispered suddenly, “you make me afraid. Why are we standing here in the darkness? What do you want with me?” “I want you to revenge your brother,” said Gallagher suddenly, as if he had obeyed an unforeseen impulse and broached an unexpected subject, with which his mind had hitherto only toyed nervously. “I want you to join me, Mary. I want you to take your brother’s place in the Organization. But a greater place than he held. No. It’s not your brother’s place I want you to take but . . .” “Dan, what are you talking about?” she panted in a terrified voice. There was a pause during which Gallagher imperceptibly moved his face closer to hers. Their lips met. They kissed gently. Then she drew back suddenly, shivering violently. She wanted to rush away and to shout, but the fascination of his voice was upon her. His voice and the glamour of his face. His face and the romance of his life. She was bound suddenly by it. Suddenly too, it became apparent to her why she had been eager to convert him. It had been in order to meet him, with a plausible excuse.