accustomed level with something like a sigh of relief. A wicker sofa, of stiffer nature, creaked in every fibre. A drooping flower in a glass vase gave a little shiver and shed every last petal on the table, as if it had been waiting all the evening to do this. Even the window curtains ceased swaying in the sea-breeze. It was as if the room and everything in it settled down to a breathless expectancy.
And at last the door of the little room opened and Pearl and Anthony came out. They did not appear at all surprised to find the room empty.
They would not have been surprised to find the universe empty--to hear phantom newsboys calling an extra announcing that no one existed but themselves--"Rumor confirmed that only Pearl and Anthony Exist."
Pearl looked about her with that beautiful starry blankness that certain emotions bring to any human countenance--a thousand times starrier than ever before.
"I wonder," she said, without the slightest trace of real interest, "what has happened."
"Haven't you been listening to me," said Anthony. "A miracle has happened--we have fallen in love."
Nevertheless he understood her meaning; and just to please her he walked to the door and glanced into the corridor. It was as essentially empty as the room. Then as he returned to her, although she was staring in the opposite direction and he made