The Magician
119
'You're simply wonderful tonight,' he said. 'I'm almost afraid of my good fortune.' 'What is there to be afraid of?' she cried. 'I should like to lose something I valued in order to propitiate the fates. I am too happy now. Everything goes too well with me.' She gave a soft, low laugh and stretched out her hand on the table. No sculptor could have modelled its exquisite delicacy. She wore only one ring, a large emerald which Arthur had given her on their engagement. He could not resist taking her hand. 'Would you like to go on anywhere?' he said, when they had finished dinner and were drinking their coffee. 'No, let us stay here. I must go to bed early, as I have a tiring day before me tomorrow.' 'What are you going to do?' he asked. 'Nothing of any importance,' she laughed. Presently the diners began to go in little groups, and Margaret suggested that they should saunter towards the Madeleine. The night was fine, but rather cold, and the broad avenue was crowded. Margaret watched the people. It was no less amusing than a play. In a little while, they took a cab and drove through the streets, silent already, that led to the quarter of the Montparnasse. They sat in silence, and Margaret nestled close to Arthur. He put his arm around her waist. In the shut cab that faint, oriental odour rose again to his nostrils, and his head reeled as it had before dinner. 'You've made me very happy, Margaret,' he whispered. 'I feel that, however long I live, I shall never have a happier day than this.' 'Do you love me very much?' she asked, lightly.