DESTINY



tired. It is under artifice that the soul wearies. That
life I knew, and left with the bitterness of exile-
but that was long ago. Wrhen I go into it now, it shall
be only for the joy of coming back here again-of
coming home."
  The girl looked up into his face, and the breeze
fluttered a tendril of curl against her temple.
  "You were the first person who ever called me
pretty." Through the sadness of her face came a
glimmer of shy merriment. "You said I was as beau-
tiful as starlight on water."
  "Mary, Mary !" The lover caught her slender figure
in his strong arms and held her so close that her
breath came fragrantly against his tanned cheek. "You
are as beautiful as starlight on water, and to me you're
more beautiful. You're the sun and moon and stars
and music-you're everything that's fine and splendid !"
  "For your sake," she said shyly, "I wish I were
much more beautiful."
  Even the near shadow of death cannot banish the
god of love. Mary Burton felt the arms of the man
she loved about her, and her eyes as she looked into
his face unmasked their secrets until he could read her
soul and its message. For the moment they had for-
gotten all else. Then, quite abruptly, her expression
changed and became rapt, almost frightened.
   Slowly she straightened up and her pupils dilated
as though they were seeing something invisible to other
eyes. Her lips parted and she drew away from his
grasp and stood gazing ahead. Then she brushed one
arm across her forehead. With instant alarm Ed-
wardes caught her shoulders. "What is it" he de-
manded. "Is anything wrong"
   She shook her head and spoke wonderingly with a



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