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I have brought you now to the beginning of my chronicle: I have laid the stage and you are left with the chief players. The story is written in a thumbed volume of the Book of Life, and it is time to lift down the tome from its shelf. Look for no tremendous tale, for at Surprise the day wags through its journey as elsewhere—sorrow tastes as bitter here, pleasure drinks as sweetly, and the human heart beats time to old, old tunes. Look for no great story then, for I have it not to tell—you are to find two lovers, you are to have the history of their loves, and learn how one was rude apprentice to the trade, and what apprenticeship had to teach him.

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The man and woman on the verandah had tumbled into their own thoughts. But presently Power rose in his seat, and moved it beside Maud Neville. He sat down again—he leaned forward and raised one of her hands. Fingers closed on his own. "Kiss me, Maud," he said, in no more than a whisper.

He bent close over the girl. His face approached hers until he and she saw each other clearly in the dark. They kissed with much passion. As Maud released him, she touched his forehead with her lips.