chair, she laid her arms on his shoulders. He lifted his hands
to clasp hers, but, as he threw his head back to smile up at her
she noticed that his look was still serious, almost remote. It
was as if, for the first time, a faint veil hung between his
eyes and hers.

"I'm so sorry: it's been a long day for you," he said absently,
pressing his lips to her hands

She felt the dreaded twitch in her throat.

"Nick!" she burst out, tightening her embrace, "before I go,
you've got to swear to me on your honour that you know I should
never have taken those cigars for myself!"

For a moment he stared at her, and she stared back at him with
equal gravity; then the same irresistible mirth welled up in
both, and Susy's compunctions were swept away on a gale of
laughter.

When she woke the next morning the sun was pouring in between
her curtains of old brocade, and its refraction from the ripples
of the Canal was drawing a network of golden scales across the
vaulted ceiling. The maid had just placed a tray on a slim
marquetry table near the bed, and over the edge of the tray Susy
discovered the small serious face of Clarissa Vanderlyn. At the
sight of the little girl all her dormant qualms awoke.

Clarissa was just eight, and small for her age: her little
round chin was barely on a level with the tea-service, and her