I suggested changing the entrance, and carrying the drawing-room across the whole Fifth Avenue front; you see the front door corresponds with the windows----" The walking-stick which Van Alstyne swung in demonstration dropped to a startled "Hallo!" as the door opened and two figures were seen silhouetted against the hall-light.

At the same moment a hansom halted at the curb-stone, and one of the figures floated down to it in a haze of evening draperies; while the other, black and bulky, remained persistently projected against the light.
For an immeasurable second the two spectators of the incident were silent; then the house-door closed, the hansom rolled off, and the whole scene slipped by as if with the turn of a stereopticon.
Van Alstyne dropped his eye-glass with a low whistle.
"A--hem--nothing of this, eh, Selden?
As one of the family, I know I may count on you--appearances are deceptive--and Fifth Avenue is so imperfectly lighted----" "Goodnight," said Selden, turning sharply down the side street without seeing the other's extended hand.
Alone with her cousin's kiss, Gerty stared upon her thoughts.

He had kissed her before--but not with another woman on his lips.

If he had spared her that she could have drowned quietly, welcoming the dark flood as it submerged her.

But now the flood was shot through with glory, and it was harder to drown at sunrise than in darkness.