He looked at her inquiringly, but she said nothing. In her eyes he
saw the same fire that blazed when she had asked him if there was no
way to avoid discovery and had suggested it herself in the forgery.
He reached over and caressed her hand. She did not withdraw it, but
her averted eyes told that she could not trust even herself too far.

As they stood before the gateway to the steps that led down into the
long under-river tunnel which was to swallow them so soon and
project them, each into a new life, hundreds, perhaps thousands of
miles apart, Carlton realized as never before what it all had meant.
He had loved her through all the years, but never with the wild love
of the past two weeks. Now there was nothing but blackness and
blankness. He felt as though the hand of fate was tearing out his
wildly beating heart.

She tried to smile at him bravely. She understood. For a moment she
looked at him in the old way and all the pent-up love that would
have, that had done and dared everything for him struggled in her
rapidly rising and falling breast.

It was now or never. She knew it, the supreme effort. One word or
look too many from her and all would be lost. She flung her arms
about him and kissed him. "Remember--one week from to-day--a
personal--in the STAR," she panted.

She literally tore herself from his arms, gathered up her grip, and
was gone.

A week passed. The quiet little woman at the Oceanview House was