One thing was imperative--the boy must cut out his card-playing for stakes at once; and there was a way to accomplish that by impressing Gerald with the idea that to do anything behind Neergard's back which he would not care to tell him about was a sort of treachery. Who were these people, anyway, who would permit a boy of that age, and in a responsible position, to play for such stakes? Who were they to encourage such--? Selwyn's tightening grasp on his chair suddenly relaxed; he sank back, staring at the brilliant coals. He, too, had forgotten. Now he remembered, in humiliation unspeakable, in bitterness past all belief. Time sped, and he sat there, motionless; and gradually the bitterness became less perceptible as he drifted, intent on drifting, back through the exotic sorcery of dead years--back into the sun again, where honour was bright and life was young--where all the world awaited happy conquest--where there was no curfew in the red evening glow; no end to day, because the golden light had turned to silver; but where the earliest hint of dawn was a challenge, and where every yellow star whispered "Awake!" And out of the magic _she_ had come into his world again! Sooner or later he would meet her now. That was sure. When? Where? And of what significance was it, after all? Whom did it concern? Him? Her? And what had he to say to her, after all? Or she to him? Not one word. * * * * * About midnight he roused himself and picked up his hat and coat. "Do you wish a cab, please?" whispered the club servant who held his coat; "it is snowing very hard, sir." CHAPTER III UNDER THE ASHES He had neither burned nor returned the photograph to Mrs. Ruthven. The prospect perplexed and depressed Selwyn. He was sullenly aware that in a town where the divorced must ever be reckoned with when dance and dinner lists are made out, there is always some thoughtless hostess--and sometimes a mischievous one; and the chances were that he and Mrs. Jack Ruthven would collide, either through the forgetfulness or malice of somebody or, through sheer hazard, at some large affair where Destiny and Fate work busily together in criminal copartnership. And he encountered her first at a masque and revel given by Mrs. Delmour-Carnes where Fate contrived that he should dance in the same set with his _ci-devant_ wife before the unmasking, and where, unaware, they gaily exchanged salute and hand-clasp before the jolly _melee_ of unmasking revealed how close together two people could come after parting for ever and a night at the uttermost ends of the earth.