Theo slumped back on the chair and covered her face with her hands. 'I'm sorry, Eleanore—go now.'

She couldn't explain, that, put in the maid's crude words, the thought of deliberately deceiving Aaron had twisted her with sudden hot pain. Self-loathing sickened her; but much stronger was her longing for Meme.

Meme arrived first at the house near Rock Creek, and went through the necessary business of hiring a room with cold distaste. He knew the place by reputation and had been astonished by Theodosia's note, designating it for their meeting. For a moment he had been seized by a normal male reaction of triumph. Surely this could mean only one thing: tacit surrender. Invitation to spend their last hours together, not in the idyllic romantic haze of their days by the river, but in the frank consummation of their passion. On reflection he knew that he was wrong. She was incapable of such cold-blooded planning. She must have picked the place because she could think of none else. Nor for that matter could he. But the frowzy, leering atmosphere of the house revolted him.

He stood by the dirty cracked window of the bare room assigned him, and saw Theodosia, her face concealed by a dark hood, slip from a carriage and walk uncertainly to the door below. It opened silently at her approach.

'Tis like a stinking French play, he thought angrily: intrigue and shoddy gallantry: 'The Officer and the Married Lady'. Phaugh!

The room smelled of countless unwashed bodies, and from the rumpled bed there rose an odor of patchouli. The fumish ings, frankly practical, consisted only of bed, table, and slop bowl. Through the flimsy partition which separated this room from the adjoining one came excited squeals of laughter punctuated by male grunts and guffaws.

Meme opened the door at a sharp knock. The fat proprietor entered, smirking. Theodosia, shrinking into her hooded cape, followed him.

'Here's your little lady, sir. Anything more I can do for you?'

Meme drew Theo against him, encircling her with a protecting arm. 'Yes. Make me a fire,' he ordered sharply. 'This dismal hole is damper than a cellar.'

The man shook his head. 'Can't be done, sir. I ain't got no wood. Don't pay to cut none in summer. Anyways, the folks that comes here don't need no fire. They got something better to keep'em warm.'

Merne's fist clenched, as he felt Theo tremble against him. 'Get out!' he shouted violently. The man scuttled from the room. The door slammed to.

Theo stirred, looking up at him piteously. 'Oh, Meme, this is terrible. I didn't dream it would be like this.'

'I know you didn't,' he said quietly. 'It can't be helped'. He untied the ribbons of her wet cloak, laying it across the worm-eaten footboard of the bed.