He had kissed the pretty little mouth that he had so often watched with longing.

He admitted to himself that he had really wished to pose a little in her eyes: to be the noble hero in the third act who goes away from temptation.

But who does not wish for the _beau role_ before one's idol?
* * * * * This meeting at the play tonight was the sort of anti-climax that is almost invariable in a London romance.

How he looked forward to it! For after Vincy came in only a few banalities had been said.

He was to see her now for the last time--the first time since he had given himself away to her.