"
She was silent for a moment.
"Alone?" she asked presently.
"I am always alone," he answered.
"That is rather a matter of your own choice, is it not?"
"Perhaps so. I have always found it hard to make friends.
Enemies seem to be more in my line."
"I have not found it difficult to become your friend," she
reminded him.
"You are one of my few successes," he replied.
She leaned back with half-closed eyes. There was nothing new
about their environment--the clusters of roses, the perfume of
the lilies in the rock garden, the even sweeter fragrance of the
trim border of mignonette. Away in the distance, the night was
made momentarily ugly by the sound of a gramophone on a passing
launch, yet this discordant note seemed only to bring the perfection
of present things closer. Back across the velvety lawn, through the
feathery strips of foliage, the lights of The Sanctuary, shaded and
subdued, were dimly visible. The dining-table under the cedar-tree
had already been cleared. Hedges, newly arrived from town to play
the major domo, was putting the finishing touches to a little array
of cool drinks. And beyond, dimly seen but always there, the wall.
She turned to him suddenly.
"You build a wall around your life," she said, "like the wall
which encircles your mystery house.
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