A STRAINED CONVERSATION Arnold swung around the corner of the terrace that evening with footsteps still eager notwithstanding his long walk.

The splendid egoism of youth had already triumphed, the tragedy of the day had become a dim thing.

He himself was moving forward and onward.

He glanced up at the familiar window, feeling a slight impulse of disappointment when he received no welcoming wave of the hand.

It was the first time for weeks that Ruth had not been there.