Without a word she put her hand in his. He could feel distinctly its
cool, soft, exquisite texture. With an exclamation of delight he drew
her toward him, but she held herself away, the expression of her
beautiful face softening the effect of the recoil.

"Not yet, dear," she said, gently. "We must be very careful. You do
not understand. If you do anything abrupt or sudden you will wake--and
then we shall be parted again, who knows for how long!"

There were tears in her eyes as she spoke. Seeing them, he buried his
face in his hands and groaned, while the sense of his utter
helplessness rolled over him like a flood.

"God!" he broke out, with sudden fierceness. "What devil's trick is
this? It's not a dream. It can't be a dream. Here we are, two human
beings in a human world--I'll swear it. Smell that oleander. Listen to
that bird sing. Hear the trickle of that fountain. And yet you tell me
that we are asleep!"

She laid her head in the curve of her arm, resting on the ivy-covered
back of the low seat. Bending over her, he saw that her cheeks were
wet. The sight made him desperate.

"Don't!" he cried, hoarsely. "Don't do that! Tell me what is expected
of me. Whatever it is, no matter how hard it is, or how long it takes,
I'll do it."

She did not reply, but she made a quick little gesture with the hand
nearest him. It signified hopelessness, almost despair. Darkness began
to fall, and an early moon hung pale in the heavens. Somewhere in the