Dawn found her there asleep beside an empty chair.
CHAPTER XXVII
ONE day toward the end of August, Athalie, standing at the pier's end, saw the huge incoming liner slowly warping to her berth; waited amid the throngs in the vast sheds by the gangway, caught a glimpse of Clive, lost him to view, then saw him again, very near, making his way toward her. And then her hands were in his and she was looking into his beloved eyes once more.
There were a few quick words of greeting spoken, tender, low-voiced; the swift light of happiness made her blue eyes brilliant:
"You tall, sun-bronzed, lazy thing," she said; "I never told you what a distinguished looking man you are, did I? Well I'll spoil you by telling you now. No wonder everything feminine glances at you," she added as he lifted his hat to fellow passengers who were passing.
And during the customs' examination she stood beside him, amused, interested, gently bantering him when he declared everything; for even in Athalie were apparently the ineradicable seeds of that original sin—which is in all femininity—the paramount necessity for smuggling.
Once or twice he spoke aside to the customs' officer; and Athalie