"Mr. Courteney! How kind!" it said.

As from a distance he heard Grant speak. "Mr. Courteney, allow me to
introduce you--my wife!"

There was a dainty movement like the flash of shimmering wings. He
looked up. She had thrown back her veil.

He gazed upon her. "Rosemary!"

She looked back at him above the roses with eyes that were deeply
purple--as the depths of the sea. "Yes, I am Rosemary--to my friends,"
she said.

Ellis Grant was laughing still, in his massive, contented way. "But to
her lover," he said, "she is--and always has been--Rosa Mundi."

Then speech came back to Courteney, and strength returned. He held
himself in firm restraint. He had been stricken, but he did not flinch.

"Your husband?" he said.

She indicated Grant with a careless hand. "Since yesterday," she said.

He bowed to her again, severely formal. "May I wish you joy?" he said.

There was an instant's pause, and in that instant something happened.
She had not moved. Her eyes still met his own, but it was as if a veil
had dropped between them suddenly. He saw the purple depths no more.