CHAPTER THE THIRD THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS Part 1 Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance. “I think that I will leave this letter for him,” she said. She offers me no explanation, permits me absolutely no hope. Even her memories of he who had frequented her life for the longest period of years were worn and fading. “If it will keep you busy,” he said, with a faintly ironical smile. ‘Go then. Most people, every one I know else, seem to have mated with foreigners and to talk uneasily in unfamiliar tongues, to be afraid of the knowledge the other one has, of the other one’s perpetual misjudgment and misunderstandings. Accordingly, having armed himself with various weapons, including a stout oaken staff then ordinarily borne by the watch, and put a coil of rope and a gag in his pocket, to be ready in case of need, he set out, about ten o'clock, on the expedition. May I do so to-day?” “It’s your gate,” she said, amiably; “you got it first. “You belong to me,” he said fiercely; “the marriage certificate is in my pocket.
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