whispered, staring into the back of the alcove.

"Nonsense," said the man, throwing a glance around the recess. "There's
nobody here but you and I. We are alone together, as we shall be
hereafter, when we have taken the step."

"But that child," whispered the woman, "with his strange vesture and
his wonderful face. His eyes look at me so."

"There is no child there, my dear," urged the man; "you are overwrought,
excited, nervous. The music starts. Let us go."

He stretched out his hand to the woman, but as he came nearer she shrank
back with her own hand on her heart.

"Oh," she said faintly, "he's gone."

"Of course he's gone," he answered soothingly. "Now is our time to get
away. Let me--"

"No, no," said the woman. "I can't go with you now. It wouldn't be
right."

"But you knew that before," pleaded the man. "Besides--"

"Yes, but I can't do it. He was there! His eyes spoke--I--don't touch
me," she said; "I'm going back to my husband. Don't follow."