"I'm just sick about it! I know--I know that Alix would never have
permitted herself to--I know she wouldn't!"

He was close to her, and now he laid his hand over hers.

"I care--" he said, quite involuntarily, "I have always cared for
you! I know it's madness--I know it's too late--but I love every
hair of your beautiful head! Cherry--Cherry--!"

They had both gotten to their feet, and now she essayed to pass
him, her face white, her cheeks blazing. He stopped her, and held
her close in his arms, and after a few seconds he felt her
resisting muscles relax, and they kissed each other.

For a full dizzy minute they clung together, arms locked, hearts
beating madly and close, and lips meeting again and again.
Breathless, Cherry wrenched herself free, and turned to drop into
a chair, and breathless, Peter stood looking down upon her. About
them was the silence of the dripping garden; all the sounds of the
world came muffled and dull through the thick mist.

Then Peter knelt down beside her chair, and gathered her hands
together in his own, and she rested her forehead on his, and spent
and silent, leaned against his shoulder. And so they remained, not
speaking, for a long while. Kow clinked dishes somewhere in a
faraway kitchen, and the fog-horn boomed and was still-boomed and
was still. But here on the porch there was no sound.

"Cherry, tell me that you care for me a little?" Peter said after
awhile, and he felt as if he met a new Cherry, among all the