pockets simultaneously. "I must have left it in my other clothes."

It is doubtful whether his conscience troubled him. But he had a very
exciting sense of risk and of romance and of rapture, as though he had
done something wonderful and irremediable.

"Ah! Well!" she murmured, instantly acquiescent, and without the least
hesitation descended the steps.

How many girls (he demanded) would or could have made up their minds and
faced the situation like that? Her faculty of decision was simply
masculine! He looked at her in the twilight and she was inimitable,
unparalleled. And yet by virtue of the wet glistening of her eyes in the
cathedral she had somehow become mystically his! He. permitted himself
the suspicion: "Perhaps she guesses that I'm only pretending about the
latchkey." The suspicion which made her an accessory to his crime did
not lower her in his eyes. On the contrary, the enchanting naughtiness
with which it invested her only made her variety more intoxicant and
perfection more perfect. His regret was that the suspicion was not a
certainty.

Before a word could be said as to the next move, a figure in a grey suit
and silk hat, and both arms filled with packages, passed in front of the
gate and then halted.

"Oh! It's Mr. Buckingham Smith!" exclaimed Marguerite. "Mr. Buckingham
Smith, we're locked out till father comes." She completed the tale of
the mishap, to George's equal surprise and mortification.

Mr. Buckingham Smith, with Mr. Alfred Prince, was tenant of the studio