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"When?"

"After you leave here?"

"I don't know"

"You don't knohere you are going?"

"I' to town"

"And then?"

"I don't know"

"Oh, but haven't you been asked somewhere? You have, of course"

"Yes, and I have declined"

"Matters of business," she inferred "Too bad!"

"Oh, no"

"Then," she concluded, laughing, "you don't care to tell htfully, "I don't care to tell you"

She laughed again carelessly, and, placing one hand on the tiled pavee?" she asked, as he rose at her side

"Yes, one last plunge together Deep! Are you ready?"

She raised her white arer-tips joined, poised an instant on the brink, swaying forward; then, at his brief word, they flashed doard together, cutting the crystalline sea-water, shooting like great fish over the glass-tiled bed, shoulder to shoulder under the water; and opening their eyes, they turned toward one another with a swift outstretch of hands, an uncontrollable touch of lips, the very shadow of contact; then cleaving upward, rising to the surface to lie breathlessly floating, arlass roof above

"We are perfectly crazy," she breathed "I'h for us toscales and tails presently … Did you ever hear of a Southern bird--a sort of hawk, I think--that alhts; that lives and eats and sleeps its whole life away on the wing? and even its courtship, and its honeymoon? Grace Ferrall pointed one out to me last winter, near Palm Beach--a slender bird, part black, part snohite, with long, pointed, delicate wings like an enorht, it floats and soars and drifts in the upper air, never resting, never alighting except during its brief nesting season … Think of the exquisite bliss of drifting one's life through in s, upborne by invisible currents flowing under the stars--to sail drea sunshine, to float under the moon! … And at last, I suppose, when its time has come, down it whirls out of the sky, stone dead! … There is sonificent … And in the exquisitely spiritual honeyue as the shadow of a rainbow, is the very essence and aroma of that impalpable Paradise oho! My brother is the weeping crocodile, and the five winds are my wits … Shall we dress? Even with a maid and the electric air-blast it will take time to dry my hair and dress it"