There, by the edge of the dancers, with the noise of the music and the shuffling feet to cover them, they met.

The hands she held to him were cold and trembling.
"Is it you ?" "It is I." That was all; and then the shadow of Wilbur loomed above them.
"What's this?
Do you know each other?
It isn't possible! Pierre, are you playing a game with me ?" But under the glance of Pierre he fell back a step, and reached for the gun which was not there.

They were alone once more.
"Mary--Mary Brown!" "Pierre!" "But you are dead!" "No, no! But you--Pierre, where can we go ?" "Outside." "Let us go quickly!" "Do you need a wrap ?" "No." "But it is cold outside, and your shoulders are bare." "Then take that cloak.

But quickly, Pierre, before we're followed." He drew it about her; he led her through the door; it clicked shut; they were alone with the sweet, frosty air before them.

She tore away the mask.
"And yours, Pierre ?" "Not here." "Why ?" "Because there are people.Hurry.Now here, with just the trees around us--" And he tore off his mask.
The white, cold moon shone over them, slipping down between the dark tops of the trees, and the wind stirred slowly through the branches with a faint, hushing sound, as if once more a warning were coming to Pierre this night.