"I know what the world says of a married woman who does as I have done. It may tolerate her but a man never marries her--or if he does the world punishes him by loss of caste." He leaned closer, bending down until her hair brushed his face and its perfume rose about him like a cloud. "I am ready to risk it, dear one," he whispered. "I am ready to marry you the moment you are free." "You are ready to marry me?" she breathed. "No! no! Montague, I was not playing for that, I was not----" "Stephanie, dearest, don't you love me?" he asked. She looked at him steadily an instant--then over her face broke the entrancing smile, and she put up her arm and drew his face close to hers. "Yes, sweetheart," she whispered--and kissed him on the lips. But when he would have gathered her into his embrace she stayed him. "No, dearest," she said, "I will not let you be an Amherst, even in a little--nor would you yourself. I am not going to provoke a fresh scandal that will involve you and make of our--love a reproach. Suppose some one saw me in your arms--what would be the natural inference--with my recent past?" "No one would see," he pleaded. "We must not risk it--for your sake, we must not." She put out her hand and slipped it into his. "You may hold me as close as you like in fancy--you can't hold me _too_ close--but help me to be strong, dear one, help me to be strong!" "You are right," he reflected.--"Just another kiss, and then----" She held up her face--and their lips met. As they did so, the lights suddenly flared up in the room directly in the rear and through an open window fell full upon them. He straightened up instantly. "No one saw!" he said, glancing around toward the house. "One can never tell," she answered, with a nervous little laugh. "Some one _may_ have seen." She got up hastily. "Let us go in, we have been out here long enough--and Devereux will be on our trail." He took her hand and drew it through his arm, and they passed down the piazza and into the house. * * * * * * * And some one did see! Porshinger and Woodside were coming up the walk just as the light flashed out. "Look there!" the latter exclaimed. Porshinger nodded. "A new one on the string," Woodside continued. "Oh, these fascinating women!--You may be able to use that kiss to--advantage, my friend. Two on the string are not too many, unless _you_ would be the only one.--Hey?" But Porshinger did not answer--and Woodside, with a sharp glance at him, said no more. He did not understand. As for Porshinger, after the episode of the morning, he did not know whether to be pleased or sorry. He walked on a few steps--hesitated--stopped.