I didn't know--" He helped her gently to her feet and boosted her onto his saddle.

So they started homeward; Amory walking and she bent forward on the pommel, sobbing bitterly.
"I've got a crazy streak," she faltered, "twice before I've done things like that.

When I was eleven mother went--went mad--stark raving crazy.
We were in Vienna--" All the way back she talked haltingly about herself, and Amory's love waned slowly with the moon.

At her door they started from habit to kiss good night, but she could not run into his arms, nor were they stretched to meet her as in the week before.

For a minute they stood there, hating each other with a bitter sadness.