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THE RAIN-GIRL

Rome who considered larks' tongues a delicacy."

"Don't you think you would be better if I left you alone?" she suggested, as he dropped down upon the grass beside her.

"Good heavens, no!" he cried, looking across at her. "What an awful idea."

"But you seem so——" she hesitated.

"Well, I'll forget those utilitarian ankles," he smiled.

"I want to talk to you," she said hesitatingly. "Seriously," she added, as he smiled across at her. "Has it ever struck you that everything ends?" She kept her face averted.

"It has." He plucked a strong-looking blade of grass and proceeded to use it as a pipe-cleaner.

For some minutes there was silence.

"I said it has," he repeated, looking up from his occupation.

She still kept her eyes fixed upon a little clump of grass with which she was toying.

"You've been very nice to me," she began in a low voice.

"I have," with decision.

She looked up quickly. "Are you laughing at me?" she asked simply. There was in her eyes just a suspicion of reproach.

To Beresford she seemed to possess the power of expressing her every emotion without the necessity for speech. Her eyes, he decided for the thousandth time, were the most wonderful ever bestowed upon woman.