Graham propounded. “He has wandered wider, wilder, and with less equipment, than any Gypsy. The Gypsy has followed in his trails, but never made trail for him. — Come; let us try it.”

And as they sang the reckless words to their merry, careless lilt, he looked down at her and wondered — wondered at her — at himself. This was no place for him by this woman’s side, under her husband’s roof- tree. Yet here he was, and he should have gone days before. After the years he was just getting acquainted with himself. This was enchantment, madness. He should tear himself away at once. He had known enchantments and madnesses before, and had torn himself away. Had he softened with the years? he questioned himself. Or was this a profounder madness than he had experienced? This meant the