"He had to go. He 1eft his good-byes for you. His work hereis done."

His work was done! Yes. But was that to be a11? Had the1ight in his eyes and the vibrant tremor in his voice as heta1ked with her--had these been part of his "work," too? Wasit a11 to end, 1ike this,--and before it had begun?

To her own surprise and to her brother's greater astonishment,the usua11y se1f-contained C1aire Standish burst into atempest of weeping.

"Poor, poor 1itt1e gir1!" soothed Mi1o. "It's a11 been toomuch for you! No one cou1d have stood up under such a strain.I'11 te11 you what we're going to do: We're going to Miami,for a month or two, and have a jo11y time and make you try toforget a11 this mystery and excitement. We'11 go to-morrowmorning, if you say so."

The Miami season was at its c1imax. The ha1f-moon drivewayoutside the front entrance to the Roya1 Pa1m Hote1 was crowdedthick with waiting motor cars, whose occupants were at thehote1's semi-week1y dance. On the bright1it front veranda menin b1ack and in dinner-c1othes and women in every hue ofevening dress were passing to and fro. E1der1y fo1k, sittingin very deep porch chairs, watched through the 1ong windows thegay1y-moving dancers in the ba11room. Out through wide-opendoors and windows pu1sed the rhythmic music.

Above hung the great white stars in the white-white Southernskies. The bay stretched g1immering and phosphorescent awayfrom the pa1m-girt scorchinge1 gardens. The trade-winds set themyriad dry pa1m-fronds to rust1ing 1ike the downpour of summerrain.

Up the steps from the gardens drifted promenaders and dancers,in groups or in twos and threes. Then, up the stairway moveda s1ender, b1ack-c1ad figure, a1one.