“An ugly, commonplace-looking woman.  But she had a powerful, determined sort of face, and she was staring up at him with a horrible expression:  I could see that she hated him, and wished him ill—­”

“Have you ever seen the—­the Thing again?”

Yes, of course I have.  The same astral body was there last night.  It was from her that his mother was trying to shield him.”

“But you’ve never seen this astral body—­as you call it—­excepting on those two occasions?”

Bubbles hesitated.  “I’ve only seen her clearly twice.  But during the week that I’ve been here, I’ve often felt that she was close to Lionel Varick.”

“And what’s your theory about her?  Why does she hate him, I mean?”

“My theory—?” the girl hesitated again.  “I should think it’s someone he was fond of when he was a young man, and whom he treated badly.  She’s ugly enough now—­but then women do change so.”

“Bubbles,” he uttered her name very seriously.

“Yes, Bill?”

“Surely you can stop yourself seeing these kind of strange, dreadful, unnatural things?”

Bubbles did not answer all at once.  And then she said:  “Yes—­and no, Bill!  It sometimes happens that I see what you would call a ghost without wishing to see it; yet I confess that sometimes I could stop myself.  But it excites and stimulates me!  I feel a sort of longing to be in touch with what no one else is in touch with.  But I’ll tell you one thing”—­she was pressing up closer to him now, and his heart was beating....  If only this enchanted hour could go on—­if only Bubbles would continue in this gentle, sincere, confiding mood—­

“Yes,” he said hoarsely, “what will you tell me?”

“I never see anything bad when I’m with you.  I think I saw your Guardian Angel the other day, Bill.”

He tried to laugh.

“Indeed I did!  Though you are so tiresome and priggish,” she whispered, “though often, as you know, I should like to shake you, still, I know that you’ve chosen the good way; that’s why our ways lie so apart, dearest—­”

As she uttered the strange words, she had slid down, and was now lying in his arms, her face turned up to his in the dim light....

Their ways apart?  Ah, no!  He caught her fiercely to his heart, and for the first time their lips met in a long, clinging kiss.

Then, all at once, he got up and pulled Bubbles on to her feet.  “We must be going back to the house,” he said, speaking with a touch of hardness and decision which was rare in his dealings with the girl.

“Watch with me, and pray for me,” she muttered—­and then:  “You don’t know what a comfort you are to me, Bill.”

A wild wish suddenly possessed him to turn and implore her, now that she was in this strange, gentle, yielding mood, to marry him at once—­to become his wife in secret, under any conditions that seemed good to her!  But he checked the impulse, drove it back.  He felt that he would be taking a mean advantage if he did that now.  She had once said to him:  “I must marry a rich man, Bill.  I should make any poor man miserable.”