and inlets, from which, as the car rattled over the planks of
the bridges, the wild duck rose in noisy circles, they alone
were awake and living.

The silence had lasted so long that it was as eloquent as
words. The young man turned his eyes timorously, and sought
those of the girl. What he felt was so strong in him that it
seemed incredible she should be ignorant of it. His eyes
searched the gray veil. In his voice there was both challenge
and pleading.

"`Shall be together,'" he quoted, "`breathe and ride. So, one
day more am I deified; who knows but the world may end
to-night?'"

The moonlight showed the girl's eyes shining through the veil,
and regarding him steadily.

"If you don't stop this car quick," she said, "the world
WILL end for all of us."

He shot a look ahead, and so suddenly threw on the brake that
Sam and the chauffeur tumbled awake. Across the road
stretched the great bulk of a touring-car, its lamps burning
dully in the brilliance of the moon. Around it, for greater
warmth, a half-dozen figures stamped upon the frozen ground,
and beat themselves with their arms. Sam and the chauffeur
vaulted into the road, and went toward them.

"It's what you say, and the way you say it," the girl