ermined once more to summon the husband to second her efforts.

Outside the bedroom door was a small square landing, the sort of
landing, unworthy the name of hall, which one finds in most small,
middle-class houses. The gas was not yet lighted, and it had a dreary,
depressing air. Before the window, gazing blankly into the street,
stood Robert Gloucester, every line of his body eloquent of fatigue and
depression. Nurse Emma looked at him sympathetically; but her first
thought was for her patient.

"I think you had better go to Mrs Gloucester, sir. I can't get her to
eat. The food is ready on the table. Perhaps she will take it for
you."

Robert passed her without a word, shutting the door behind him. Jean
stared at him across the room.

"Darling! Nurse is distressed that you won't eat. She has sent me to
persuade you."

"She is a stupid woman--stupid and heartless. She has no right to be a
nurse."

"Don't say that, dear. She has nursed you well--been most devoted. For
three nights she has not had off her clothes."

Jean's upper lip curled in scorn. A strong, self-contained woman, who
had lost three nights' rest in performance of her paid duty. Three
nights! For how many weary months had she herself missed her sleep,
dreading the night, dreading the day, travelling wearily nearer and
nearer a martyrdom of pain, and now--nothing! Hungry arms, hungry
heart, incredible disappointment! She pushed aside the offered cup with
impatient hand.

"I don't want it. It would choke me."

"But you are so weak; you will be worse again. For my sake,
sweetheart!"

"No! I am better. You can see for yourself. I feel really stronger."
And strange as it appeared, Jean spoke the truth. In some mysterious
fashion the flood of anger coursing through her body seemed to have
brought with it fresh life and energy. The tone of her voice was
clearer, a tinge of colour showed on her cheeks. She looked her husband
in the face with cold, challenging eyes.

"You took away my baby--my baby, and hid him for ever, without letting
me have one sight of his face! Was that just? Was that fair? Does a
woman wait all those months to be cheated at the end? It was a cruel
thing to do."

"But you were ill. Your own life was in danger. It would have killed
you to be roused to hear that news. If you think it over, dear, you
will understand."

"It's easy to talk. You saw him. You can remember. I can't."

Robert's