many familiar faces at Walkham’s now; and when, toward ten o’clock, Reginald entered, politely bowing in answer to the welcome from all sides, her heart beat in her like a drum. But she calmed herself, and, catching his eye, soarranged it that early in the evening they met in an alcove of the drawing-room.

“It was inevitable,” Reginald said. “I expected it.”

“Yes,” she replied, “we were bound to meet.”

Like a great rush of water, memory came back to her. He was still horribly fascinating as of old — only she was no longer susceptible to his fascination. He had changed somewhat in those years. The lines about his mouth had grown harder and a steel-like look had come into his eyes.