"
"Probably not. I don't know; I couldn't do it--somehow--"
"Try it--unless you're afraid."
"I'm not afraid!"
"Yes, you are, if you don't take a dare."
"You dare me?"
"I do."
"Philip," she said, hesitating, adorable in her embarrassment. "No! No!
No! I can't do it that way in cold blood. It's got to be 'Captain
Selwyn'. . . for a while, anyway. . . . Good-night."
He took her outstretched hand, laughing; the usual little friendly shake
followed; then she turned gaily away, leaving him standing before the
whitening ashes.
He thought the fire was dead; but when he turned out the lamp an hour
later, under the ashes embers glowed in the darkness of the winter
morning.
CHAPTER IV
MID-LENT
"Mid-Lent, and the Enemy grins," remarked Selwyn as he started for
church with Nina and the children. Austin, knee-deep in a dozen Sunday
supplements, refused to stir; poor little Eileen was now convalescent
from grippe, but still unsteady on her legs; her maid had taken the
grippe, and now moaned all day: "_Mon dieu! Mon dieu! Che fais mourir!_"
Boots Lansing called to see Eileen, but she wouldn't come down, saying
her nose was too pink.
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