"What does it matter?" he repeated.

What, indeed? That which she had not been able to penetrate, to
understand in him, this was it! This!

"But why"--fragments of what he had said recurred to her; she spoke
mechanically--"when you found yourself recognized, did you not leave
England; why did you come here--to Strathorn House; incur the danger,
the risk?"

"Why?" He still continued to look straight before him. "Because
you--were here!" He spoke quietly, simply.

"I?" she trembled.

"Oh, you need not fear!" quickly. "You!" a bitter smile crossed his
face. "One may see a star and long to draw nearer it, though one knows
it is always beyond reach, unattainable! May even stumble forward, led
by its light--bright, beautiful! Whither?" He laughed abruptly. "One has
not asked, nor cared."

"Cared?" Her figure swayed; he too stood uncertainly; the lights seemed
to tremble.

The man suddenly straightened; then turned. "And now," his voice sounded
harsh, tense; he stepped toward the balcony.

His words, the abrupt action--what it portended, aroused her.

"No; no!" The exclamation broke from her involuntarily; she seemed to