Mardi Gras Madness (Carnival of Love)

The end of the Masquerade.

A putting-away of frivolity; a discarding of the gaudy trappings of pleasures of the flesh.

Barbara lifted her head to hear more, clearly. The deep voice of the bells seemed to strike through to her soul in rapturous proclamation that all was as she might have willed it.

The Masquerade was ended.

And with the lusty madness of the Mardi Gras she had left her old self behind. She felt cleansed and sobered. A new phase.

A period of spiritual communion... more important by far than all fleshly pleasures.

She breathed deeply and turned to Bob with shining eyes. He had arisen on one elbow and now he peered at her steadily.

“The end of Mardi Gras,” he said slowly, with a queer gesture. “The end of pretense and the time to put folly behind one. Time to unmask and reveal ourselves as we are.”

His hand reached up and he tore the domino from his face. A thin sliver of moon had peeped from behind a cloud, and Barbara saw that his face was white and drawn.

Her hand trembled so that she could scarcely control it as she reached upward to take the mask from her face. Her whole body quivered in the grip of terrible wonderment. What would Bob do?

The mask was tied tightly, and she had to rip it downward to tear it from her face. Then she faced Bob shakily:

“My dear...”

“My God! Babs!” He shrank from her, putting up his hands as though to ward off a fearful vision.

“Yes.” She spoke gently. “Can you forgive me?”

“Babs! How could you... how...?”

“Does it matter?” she asked quietly. “Does anything matter now, Bob?”

“But you... you... you’ve known all along. You came here on purpose... with me?”

“Yes.”

“But why... why? How could you have done it? My God in heaven! What have I done, Babs?”

“You’ve taught me what love can be,” she said quietly. She would not say more. She would make no plea. If he didn’t understand there was nothing she could say to change matters.

“Babs?” He looked at her wonderingly. Then his head went forward to bury his face on her shoulder. She felt his splendid body shaking in the grip of terrible emotion.

“Don’t, Bob. I love you... Doesn’t that make everything all right?”

He drew away from her and stared at her somberly. “You can’t mean it,” he said brokenly.

“Bob!” The strength seemed to flow from her body and she sank against him for support. “I am yours forever.”

“Darling.” Bob leaned over and kissed her. “To-morrow we’ll be married,” he whispered gently. “But to-night...”