As the clocks chimed the hour something told him she was there above
him, although he heard no sound.
Not a soul was in sight in this quiet corner. He bounded on to the
bench to be nearer--if she should come. If she were there hiding in
the shadows. This was maddening--unbearable. He would climb the
balustrade to see. Then out of the blackest gloom came a laugh of
silver. A soft laugh that was almost a caress. And suddenly she crept
close and leant down over the ivy.
"Paul," she whispered. "I have come, you see, to wish
you--good-night!"
Paul stood up to his full height. He put out his arms to draw her to
him, but she eluded him and darted aside.
He gave a great sigh of pain.
Slowly she came back and bent over and over of her own accord--so low
that at last she was level with his face. And slowly her red lips
melted into his young lips in a long, strange kiss.
Then, before Paul could grasp her, or murmur one pleading word, she
was gone.
And again he found himself alone, intoxicated with emotion under the
night sky studded with stars.
CHAPTER VI
Rain, rain, rain! That was not an agreeable sound to wake to when one
had not had more than a few hours' sleep, and one's only hope of the
day was to see one's lady again.
So Paul thought despairingly.
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