She lifted her eyes to his, and though there was nothing unusual about
them--there were few people, indeed, who could tell you what color they
were--men seldom forgot it when Mrs. Carraby looked at them steadily.

"I do not know, myself," she said. "I do not know why I have come."

Julien laughed unnaturally.

"Pray be seated," he begged. "Would you like to examine my curios or my
photographs? I must apologize for the condition of my room. You see,
you happen to be the first woman who has ever crossed its threshold."

"That," she remarked, "rather interests me. Still, it is only what I
should have expected. No, I do not think that I will sit down. I am
trying to ask myself exactly why I have come."


"If you can answer that question," Julien said grimly, "you will
appease a very natural curiosity on my part. It is not like you."

"Quite true," she assented. "It is not like me. I have run a great risk
in coming here and it is not my metier to run risks. And now that I am
here I do not know why I have come. This has been an impulse and this
is an hour outside my life. I am trying to understand it. Come here,
Julien." He came unwillingly to her side. She held out her hand, but
he shook his head.

"Mabel," he said, "you and I do not need to mince words. To-night I am
celebrating the ruin of my career. I am leaving England within a few