"He is a fervent sportsman," she continued, "and sets great store by his annual shooting party. Last year the rain interfered and he was terribly put out about it."
"He certainly knows how to manage an affair like this," Reynolds said. "I never saw any thing so perfectly planned and executed. We found the birds at once and have been shooting ever since. Nothing could have been better."
He carelessly took up her hat, which lay within easy reach of him, and thrust the stem of the mistletoe spray behind the broad band of ribbon that encircled the crown. It was a cold looking cluster.
"Not a bad bit of decoration, is it?" he smilingly inquired. "It is the most peculiar and beautiful sprig of mistletoe I ever saw. See how the smaller stems have grown around each other in fanciful twists."
She made a quick, suddenly-arrested movement, as if to snatch away the frigid-looking winter cluster, then glancing up into his face, simply said:
"The hat is not of a kind to bear much embellishment."
He appeared not to hear her. In fact he did not hear her, or if he did it was merely her voice, not her words. The relaxation from the physical exercise and mental excitement of the sport was so sweetly supplemented by the influence of Mrs. Ransom's gentle presence that he fell into a mood as dreamy and tender as the air and sunshine around him. Some vague stimulus was affecting his nerves and blood, suffusing his brain with a happiness as precious as it was undefinable. Like the effect of rare wine, this sudden mood seemed to be connected in some way with evil, as if it were too delicious not to have some after-taste of the hidden poison it contained. He knew and he did not know what it was that, like a skulking serpent, shadowy and hideously menacing on account of its uncertain proportions as well as on account of its venomous nature, darted now and again through his dream. Mrs. Ransom, as if in some way touched with the subtile essence of his mood, looked at him and felt a little premonition of some new experience in store for her. At this moment she and Reynolds were as detached from all the rest of the world as if they had been the only inhabitants of an undiscovered island. They were aware of this and for a few moments reveled in the fascination of the experience. Somewhere in the conscience of each an ill-defined protest against the future stirred uneasily.