"Let us do anything that comes into our heads." So they ran in and out among pleasures together, joined strange dances and sang strange songs.

They clapped their hands to jugglers and acrobats, and animals tortured into talent.

And sometimes, as the gaudy theatre resounded about them, they looked so still at each other that all the rest faded away, and they were left alone with each other's eyes and great thoughts of God.
"I love you, Silencieux." "I love you, Antony." "You will never leave me lonely in my dream, Silencieux ?" "Never, Antony." Oh, how tender sometimes was Silencieux! Several nights they had the whim that Silencieux should masquerade in the wardrobe of her past.
"To-night, you shall go clothed as when you loved that woman in Mitylene," Antony would say.
Or: "To-night you shall be a little shepherd-boy, with a leopard-skin across your shoulder and mountain berries in your hair." Or again: "To-night you shall be Pierrot--mourning for his Columbine." Ah! how divine was Silencieux in all her disguises!--a divine child.

Oh, how tender those nights was Silencieux! Antony sat and watched her face in awe and wonder.

Surely it was the noblest face that had ever been seen in the world.
"Is it true that that noble face is mine ?" he would ask; "I cannot believe it." "Kiss it," said Silencieux gaily, "and see." * * * * * Then on a sudden, what was this change in Silencieux! So cold, so silent, so cruel, had she grown.
"Silencieux," Antony called to her.