The call of youth to youth, and we name it love for want of something better: a glamorous, evanescent thing "like snow upon the desert's dusty face, lighting a little hour or two, was gone. As he pocketed it, her open palm reached out and slapped his cheek. “MY DEAR MISS PELLISSIER,— “To-morrow the six months will be up. ‘Never. "Neither man nor woman shall apply that term to me. . ‘That way. You are my wife now and you belong to me. “I expected to stay with a relation, but I found that their arrangements did not allow of it. His face was white. They ascended by a lift to one of the upper floors, passed through a long ward, and finally came to a bed in the extreme corner, round which a screen had been arranged. This way, Sir Rowland.
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