or rather, if we do, it is in a very insignificant way. We are lookers-on
at most of the things in life worth doing."

"I will spare you all the obvious retorts," he said, "if you will tell me
why you are gazing into that mirror so earnestly?"

"I was thinking," she confessed, "what a remarkably good-looking
couple we were."

He followed the direction of her eyes. He himself was of a recognised
type. His complexion was fair, his face clean-shaven and strong almost to
ruggedness. His mouth was firm, his nose thin and straight, his grey eyes
well-set. He was over six feet and rather slim for his height. But if his
type, though attractive enough, was in its way ordinary, hers was
entirely unusual. She, too, was slim, but so far from being tall, her
figure was almost petite. Her dark brown hair was arranged in perfectly
plain braids behind and with a slight fringe in front. Her complexion was
pale. Her features were almost cameo-like in their delicacy and
perfection, but any suggestion of coldness was dissipated at once by the
extraordinary expressiveness of her mouth and the softness of her deep
blue eyes. Norgate looked from the mirror into her face. There was a
little smile upon his lips, but he said nothing.

"Some day," she said, "not in the restaurant here but when we are
alone and have time, I should so much like to talk with you on really
serious matters."

"There is one serious matter," he assured her, "which I should like to
discuss with you now or at any time."