Before the rising of the sun he was up and dressed and waiting on the stoep for Honor Krige. She came out and joined him with the first flushing of the sky, the sudden brightening and deepening of the colours in the east came swiftly and noiselessly, so that she was close beside him before the sound of the light footfall on the concrete floor apprised him of her approach. He brought his head round sharply and surveyed her with critical, curious eyes, eyes which held a flash of reawakened interest in them as they rested in a close scrutiny upon her face, shaded by a white sun-helmet. She wore a riding-skirt, and carried a whip in one hand, and a cup of coffee in the other. "I thought you would prefer to take this out here," she said, and gave the cup into his hand. "Thank you." He greeted her formally when he had relieved her of the cup. "You are riding?" he said. "Yes. We always ride on the veld." She beat her skirt softly with the whip, and looked up at him with a faint smile. "You are early. I hope you slept well?" "I scarcely slept at all," he answered. "I was thinking... You set me thinking. I believe you intended that." Without denying this, she answered, looking away from him: "At least I did not wish to spoil your rest." He stood sipping his coffee and regarding her the while. He decided that hers was the most beautiful face he had ever beheld; no pictured face that he could recall surpassed it, and among living faces it was more flawless than any he had seen. "I'll make up for that to-night," he returned. "I don't believe even an uneasy conscience could rob me of sleep two nights in succession." He finished the coffee, and carried the empty cup inside and put it down on the round oak table in the living-room. Honor made no effort to prevent him. She looked after him without moving, and remained silent until he returned and confronted her with an inquiring lift of the brows. "Suppose I couldn't ride?" he asked. She evinced surprise. Not ride! Every man rode. "You do," she asserted. "As luck has it... but there are plenty of quite respectable persons in England who don't," he informed her. "Getting on and off busses in motion is a more useful accomplishment with us. To each country its own customs! Do we start now?" "Yes; we will walk across to the stables." She flashed a smile at him. "I am afraid we will have to saddle our own horses; there won't be any one about so early as this."