“Come into the garden, and you can smoke on the museum verandah; it is pleasant there these hot nights.”
“It is dangerous, your garden.”
She laughed softly. “You have proved yourself superior to danger.”
Then they passed out together. The evening was still and very sultry. Not a breath stirred the silence of the night. The magnolia, the moon- flower, and a thousand other blooms poured out their fragrance upon the surrounding air, where it lay in rich patches, like perfume thrown on water. A thin mist veiled the sea, and the little wavelets struck with a sorrowful sound against the rock below.
“Tell me all about it, Arthur.”
She had settled herself upon a long low chair, and as she leant back the starlight glanced white upon her arms and bosom.
“There is not much to tell. It is a common story—at least, I believe so. She threw me over, and the day before I should have married her, married another man.”
“Well?”
“Well, I saw her the morning following her marriage. I do not remember what I said, but I believe I spoke what was in my mind. She fainted, and I left her.”
“Ah, you spoke harshly, perhaps.”