undernote of breathless harmonies, the rustling of leaves there in the
elm trees, the faint night wind, like the murmuring of angels? Lift your
head! Was there anything ever sweeter than the perfume from that hedge of
honeysuckle? What can a man want more than these things--and--"

"Go on!"

"And the woman he loves! There, I have said it. Useless words enough! You
know very well that I love you. I meant to have said nothing just yet,
but who could help it--on such a night as this! Don't talk of going away,
Berenice. I want you here always."

She held herself away from him. Her face was deathly white now. Her eyes
questioned him fiercely.

"Before I answer you. You were in London last week?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I had business."

"In Chelsea, in Merton Street?"

He gave a little gasp.

"What do you know about that?" he asked, almost roughly.

"You were seen there, not for the first time. The person whom you