She came and stood by him, and Noll realized, with a catch of the breath, that he was being drawn into the whirl of a reckless young woman’s inordinate desire. “Why have you been so long away, Noll?” she asked. Noll in a careless moment answered lightly: “How was I to know that you thought it long, Miss Judith?” The girl’s mood took flame: “There are things a man knows without the telling,” she said. “I would not give a sigh for a man who----” She turned and gazed out of the window; and added with lowered voice: “I had better not say what I was going to say; but--your lips provoke me--to--say things.” Noll watched her for awhile--the exquisite skin, the undisciplined full red mouth, the handsome head. He found a strange pleasure in the nearness of her splendid beauty. She turned to him suddenly; caught the lingering admiration in his eyes: “I should like to know exactly what you were thinking,” she said, commandingly; “do you think you dare tell me?” “I think I _dare_,” he said lightly; and added seriously: “But I would rather not.” “I want to know,” she said. “I was wondering whether a beautiful woman’s beauty is as much pleasure to herself as it is to----” “To whom?” She finished the broken enigma for him. “To those who look upon it,” he evaded. “And who was the woman, Noll?” He smiled: “Well, to be frank, I would rather not say--it would sound rather fulsome.” She laughed, and reddened: “I think most people, men and women, think they are good-looking--I think handsome people have pleasure in their good looks.... _I_ have.... But it does not bring me the glow that looking at you gives me.” She put her hand upon her bosom. “Miss Judith!” “Any more wonders to unravel?” she asked. “No,” he said--“I think we had better not wonder too deeply.” She laughed sadly: “So we are to be wise, eh?” She came close to him: “But you have not told me how _you_ are moved by a woman’s face--so how can I tell you--what----” “Miss Judith, I am afraid we are playing with fire.” She turned, frowning out of the window: “You are right,” she said. “These things are made of fire--they are beyond speech.” She turned and came very close to him: “But,” she added hoarsely, “your lips could tell my lips--without--all this prattle----” She put her warm hand upon his sleeve: “I want to know,” she said. “Tsh!” said he. She turned swiftly to the window. A servant entered the room; and the girl, standing still, steadied herself with sudden self-command. “Come,” she said at last--“you have not seen the new white boudoir.” Noll roused, seizing an excuse to leave: “I must be going,” he said. But she would have no denial; and led him upstairs to an exquisitely decorated white room, the beauty of which at once revealed the artistic taste of Bartholomew Doome. Noll saw, as the door closed upon him, that he was in the girl’s boudoir. She came to him, put her arms about his neck, and kissed him.