a lighted candelabrum: "I suppose you're awfully nervous."
He was in one of his moments of elation. "Oh, I don't think so. I don't believe I'm as nervous as Arthur is."
"I think you are. You're trembling."
"That's nothing. It doesn't take anything to make me shake. Why, I can't pass a teacup without slopping the tea over."
"Ah, but this is different. You're frightened." She was smiling teasingly. He felt that she wanted him to be frightened. He drew nearer to her and saw the reflection of a pointed flame in her eyes.
"I am not afraid," he insisted. "I'm happy."
"Yes, you are afraid." There was a little gasping sound in her voice.
"Afraid of what, then?"
"Afraid of me."
"Afraid of you?" He tried to look astonished, but he began to feel afraid, and yet oddly elated.
"Yes . . . and I of you."
He laughed now and he ceased trembling. Quick pulses began to beat all over his body. He took her hand and began to caress her fingers. He examined her pink nails as though they were little shells he had found on some strange shore. . . .
Then she was in his arms. He who had never kissed a girl! He felt suffocated. . . . It seemed to him an unreal dream that he was kissing her. She was snuggling under his chin. . . . Over her head he looked out into the darkness beyond the window, and saw the cluster of candle flames reflected like a cluster of bright blooms. He saw the reflection of his own head, the pale green of her dress like a shimmering pool in the darkness, over which his head was bent. How unreal it all seemed! He embraced her, excited by the beautiful reflection, by a new sense of power, of daring, but he felt that he was acting a part. They kissed in a tremulous dream.
Mrs. Leigh and Arthur were coming down the stairs together. There was plenty of time for the two in the
