THE END OF A DREAM Dinner that evening was a curious meal, partly constrained, partly enlivened by strange little bursts of attempted geniality on the part of the professor.

Mr.Bomford told long and pointless stories with much effort and the air of a man who would have made himself agreeable if he could.

Edith leaned back in her chair, eating very little, her eyes large, her cheeks pale.

She made her escape as soon as possible and Burton watched her with longing eyes as he passed out into the cool darkness.

He half rose, indeed, to follow her, but his host and Mr.
Bomford both moved their chairs so that they sat on either side of him.
The professor filled the glasses with his own hand.