window when a sound just beyond the pale filter of light that came
out of it drew him more cautiously into the pitch darkness of the
deep shadow next the wall. In another moment he was sure. Some
other person was moving through the gloom beyond the streak of
light.

With his pistol in readiness, Philip darted through the
illuminated path. A startled cry broke out of the night, and with
that cry his hand gripped fiercely in the deep fur of a coat. In
the same breath an exclamation of astonishment came from his own
lips as he looked into the white, staring face of Josephine. His
pistol arm had dropped to his side. He believed that she had not
seen the weapon, and he thrust it in his trousers pocket.

"You, Josephine!" he gasped. "What are you doing here?"

"And you?" she counter demanded. "You have no coat, no hat ..."
Her hands gripped his arm. "I saw you run through the light. You
had a pistol."

An impulse which he could not explain prompted him to tell her a
falsehood.

"I came out--to see what the night looked like," he said. "When I
heard you in the darkness it startled me for a moment, and I drew
my pistol."

It seemed to him that her fingers clutched deeper and more
convulsively into his arm.