drawing power of things he had always despised; reveling in the wine-red
color of the room, in the pit-like glow of the fire; watching the play
of smiles and wistfulness on the lovely face of the girl. He had often
wondered what others saw so attractive in her beyond a pretty face. But
now he understood. Her child-like speech and pretty little ways
fascinated him. Perhaps she was really innocent of her own charms.
Perhaps a man might lead her to give up certain of her ways that caused
her to be criticized. What a woman she would be then! What a friend to
have!

This was the last sop he threw to his conscience before he consciously
began to yield to the spell that was upon him.

She had been speaking of palmistry, and she took his hand in hers,
innocently, impersonally, with large eyes lifted inquiringly. Her breath
was on his face; her touch had stirred his senses with a madness he had
never felt nor measured in himself before.

"The life-line is here," she said, coolly, and traced it delicately
along his palm with a sea-shell tinted finger. Like cool delicious fire
it spread from nerve to nerve and set aside his reason in a frenzy. He
would seize the berry and feel its stain upon his lips now no matter
what!--

"Paul!"

It was as distinct upon his ear as if the words had been spoken; as
startling and calming as a cool hand upon his fevered brow; the sudden
entrance of a guest. He had seized her hands with sudden fervor, and
now, almost in the same moment, flung them from him and stood up, a man