“MY DEAR MISS PELLISSIER,— “To-morrow the six months will be up. The theme was a masquerade. ’ The command was accompanied by an increase of pressure on the wrist he held. “I can’t. She tried to compose her thoughts, to think of the last six months, to steep herself in the calm beauty of the surroundings. Ms. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. “Here goes,” he said. ’ Gerald laughed. ’ ‘Listen. "Like a hero," answered Austin. ‘Oh, my God, she’s gone!’ Wrenching his hand from his friend’s slackened grasp, he darted for the door, Roding behind him. I had not seen the courtyard in many years and I was happy to dream of those times. A momentary petrifaction, and terror had lent wings to her feet.
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