Supposing he too wanted love and his arms were as empty as hers? Some living thing that depended upon her. Picked up the photograph, looked at it, handed it back, and never batted an eye! The act was as clear as daylight, but the motive was as profoundly mysterious as the race itself. He embraced her small body in his arms, kissing her forehead over and over. . “Perhaps,” he queried, “you wish to avoid being seen about with any one—er— connected with the profession, under present circumstances. C. “No. "To-morrow it will be mine. ‘Melusine, if you don’t let go my hand—’ He broke off as she dragged a pocket handkerchief from her sleeve. It was for ever.
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