She had him there, so he carried the conversation lightly to another
topic. "I had not thought to give Whittington until I saw Pittiwitz."

"And Mary's green gown?"

Again he parried. "It was dark. I could not see the color of her gown."

"But 'love has eyes.'" The words were light and she meant them lightly.
And she went away laughing.

But Roger did not laugh.

And when Mary came to look for him he was gone.

And up-stairs, his evening stripped of its glamour, he told himself that
he had been a fool! The world would _not_ end to-night. He had to live
the appointed length of his days, through all the dreary years.




CHAPTER VI

_In Which Mary Brings Christmas to the Tower Rooms; and in Which Roger
Declines a Privilege for Which Porter Pleads._


On Christmas Eve, Mary and Susan Jenks brought up to Roger a little
tree. It was just a fir plume, but it was gay with tinsel and spicy
with the fragrance of the woods, and it was topped by a wee wax angel.