ght be." He could
not suppress this mild sneer: his heart was very sore and angry under
his cooler mood. "I mean that your confounded magnanimousness has got
under my armour-- I'm going to man-handle myself just because you
wouldn't let me be man-handled by others."

Sophy held her breath. He knew that trick of hers. It meant that she was
moved to the quick and afraid to believe her own senses. His set look
broke a little.

"Yes, I mean it," he said rather gruffly. He sneered again, at himself
this time. "I don't blame you for looking sceptical-- I believe there's
a good authority that says, 'A liar shall not be believed though he
speak the truth.'"

White and red flame seemed to flicker over Sophy's face. She put up both
hands against her breast.

"_Cecil_...?" she said.

"Yes, my girl," he answered flippantly; "this wary old rat is going to
nip into the trap after the excellent bit of cheese you baited it with
this morning. Now don't--don't--for God's sake, don't make a fuss!" he
ended irritably.

But Sophy had flung herself on her knees beside the bed, hiding her
face--regardless of veil and hat. Her voice, smothered in the
bedclothes, reached him faintly:

"I'm not going to--don't be afraid-- I'm not going to-- I only wanted to
thank--to thank----"

"Me?" asked Chesney sardonically, yet with a hungrily tender look back
of his eyes that were bent on the crushed brown-velvet hat.

"No-- God!" said Sophy softly.

Then she rose to her feet again.

"I won't try to say anything," she murmured. "I think you know what I am
feeling----"

"Mh-- I couldn't go that far. Women are sealed volumes to an average
chap like me. Or, if they aren't sealed, they're written in some
hierophantic script that's beyond the poor layman."

He took suddenly a more natural tone.

"But if I've given you a whit of the satisfaction that your plucky stand
gave me--why, then, we're quits," he ended.

Sophy held out her hand.

"I shall be thinking of you all the time, Cecil."

"Thanks. You'll send a line now and then?"

"Indeed I will. Every day, if you like."

"No. That's too much to expect. I don't believe in setting kindness
tasks. Tell the little chap good-by for me. Hope Italy will make him
quite fit."

"I will. Good-by. Some day I'll-- I can't say things now."

"Don't try. I don't want it."

He hesitated, still holding her hand. Then flushed again darkly.

"Would it--er--go too much against the grain for you to gi