She still looked at him searchingly. "Why wouldn't he come here?" she said. He turned from her with a movement that almost seemed to indicate impatience "He preferred not to. There isn't much accommodation here. Besides, he can very well fend for himself. He's used to it." "I have been preparing for him all day," Sylvia said. She looked at him anxiously, struck by something unusual in his pose, and noted for the first time a wide strip of plaster on one side of his chin. "Is all well?" she questioned. "How have you hurt your face?" He did not look at her. "Yes, all's well," he said. "I cut myself--shaving. You go back to bed! I'm going to refresh before I turn in." Sylvia turned to a cupboard in the room where she had placed some eatables before retiring. She felt chill with foreboding. What was it that Burke was hiding behind that curt manner? She was sure there was something. "What will Guy do for refreshment?" she said, as she set dishes and plates upon the table. "He'll have some tinned stuff in that shanty of his," said Burke. She turned from the table with abrupt resolution. "Have something to eat, partner," she said, "and then tell me all about it!" She looked for the sudden gleam of his smile, but she looked in vain. He regarded her, indeed, but it was with sombre eyes. "You go back to bed!" he reiterated. "There is no necessity for you to stay up. You can see him for yourself in the morning." He would have seated himself at the table with the words, but she laid a quick, appealing hand upon his arm, deterring him. "Burke!" she said. "What is the matter? Please tell me!" She felt his arm grow rigid under her fingers. And then with a suddenness that electrified her he moved, caught her by the wrists and drew her to him, locking her close. "You witch!" he said. "You--enchantress! How shall I resist you?" She uttered a startled gasp; there was no time for more ere his lips met hers in a kiss so burning, so compelling, that it reft from her all power of resistance. One glimpse she had of his eyes, and it was as if she looked into the deep, deep heart of the fire unquenchable. She wanted to cry out, so terrible was the sight, but his lips sealed her own. She lay helpless in his hold. Afterwards she realized that she must have been near to fainting, for when at the end of those wild moments of passion he let her go, her knees gave way beneath her and she could not stand. Yet instinctively she gripped her courage with both hands. He had startled her, appalled her even, but there was a fighting strain in Sylvia, and she flung dismay away. She held his arm in a quivering grasp. She smiled a quivering smile. And these were the bravest acts she had ever forced herself to perform. "You've done it now, partner!" she said shakily. "I'm nearly--squeezed--to death!" "Sylvia!" he said. Amazement, contrition, and even a curious dash of awe, were in his voice. He put his arm about her, supporting her.