She wrenched herself free from these nightmares in the very early morning while the stars were still in the sky, and went out on to the _stoep_ to banish the evil illusions from her brain. It was still and cold and desolate. The guest-hut in which Kelly was sleeping was closed. There was no sign of life anywhere. A great longing to go out alone on to the _veldt_ came to her. She felt as if the great solitude must soothe her spirit. And it would be good to realize her wish and to see the day break from that favourite _kopje_ of hers. She turned to re-enter her room for an extra wrap, and then started at sight of another figure standing at the corner of the bungalow. She thought it was Burke, and her heart gave a wild leap within her, but the next moment as it began to move noiselessly towards her, she recognized Guy. He came to her on stealthy feet. "Hullo!" he whispered. "Can't you sleep?" She held out her hand to him. "Guy! You ought to be in bed!" He made an odd grimace, and bending, carried her hand to his lips. "I couldn't sleep either. I've been tormented with a fiery thirst all night long. What has been keeping you awake? Honestly now!" He laughed into her eyes, and she was aware that he was trying to draw her nearer to him. There was about him at, that moment a subtle allurement that was hard to resist. Old memories thrilled through her at his touch. For five years she had held herself as belonging to him. Could the spell be broken in as many months? Yet she did resist him, turning her face away. "I can't tell you," she said, a quiver in her voice. "I had a good deal to think about. Guy, what is--Kieff doing at Piet Vreiboom's?" Guy frowned. "Heaven knows. He is there for his own amusement, not mine." "You didn't know he was there?" she said, looking at him again. His frown deepened. "Yes, I knew. Of course I knew. Why?" Her heart sank. "I don't like him," she said. "I know he is clever. I know he saved your life. But I never did like him. I--am afraid of him." "Perhaps you would have rather he hadn't saved my life?" suggested Guy, with a twist of the lips. "It would have simplified matters considerably, wouldn't it?" "Don't!" she said, and withdrew her hand. "You know how it hurts me--to hear you talk like that." "Why should it hurt you?" said Guy. She was silent, and he did not press for an answer. Instead, very softly he whistled the air of a song that he had been wont to sing to her half in jest in the old days. Love that hath us in the net Can he pass and we forget? She made a little movement of flinching, but the next moment she turned back to him with absolute steadfastness. "Guy, you and I are friends, aren't we? We never could be anything else." "Oh, couldn't we?" said Guy. "No," she maintained resolutely. "Please let us remember that! Please let us build on that!"