Chayne led his wife toward the hotel, slipping his arm through hers.
"You must get some sleep, Sylvia." "Oh, Hilary," she cried.

"I shall bring shame on you.

We should never have married," and her voice broke in a sob.
"Hush!" he replied.

"Never say that, my dear, never think it! Sleep! You will want your strength to-morrow." But Sylvia slept little, and before the time she was ready with her ice-ax in her hand.

At two o'clock they came out from the hotel in the twilight of the morning.