car and dark shadows
stained her cheeks beneath the wide-opened eyes--eyes that held the
startled, frightened expression of one who has heard for the first time
the beat of Passion's wings.

Gradually, as Errington watched her, the strained look left his face and
was replaced by one of infinite solicitude. She looked so young as she
lay there, huddled against the cushions--hardly more than a child--and he
knew what that mad moment had done for her. It had wakened the woman
within her. He cursed himself softly.

"Diana," he said, leaning forward. "For God's sake, say you forgive me,
child."

The deep pain in his voice pierced through her dulled, senses.

"Why--why did you do it?" she asked tremulously.

"I did it--oh, because for the moment I forgot that I'm a man barred out
from all that makes life worth living! . . . I forgot about the shadow,
Diana. . . . You--made me forget."

He spoke with concentrated bitterness, adding mockingly:--

"After all, there's a great deal to be said in favour of the Turkish
yashmak. It at least removes temptation."

Diana's hand flew to her lips--they burned still at the memory of those
kisses--and he smiled ironically at the instinctive gesture.

"I hate you!" she said suddenly.

"Quite the most suitable thing you could do," he answered composedly.
All the softened feeling of a few moments ago had vanished: he seemed to
have relapsed into his usual sardonic humour, putting a barrier between
himself and her that set them miles apart.

Diana was conscious of a fury of resentment against his calm readjustment
of the situation. He was the offender; it was for her to dictate the
terms of peace, and he had suddenly cut the ground from under her feet.
Her pride rose in arms. If he could so contemptuously sweep aside the
memory of the last ten minutes, careless whether his plea for forgiveness
were granted or no, she would show him that for her, too, the incident
was closed. But she would not forgive him--ever.

She opened her campaign at once.

"Surely we must be almost at the Rectory by now?" she began in politely
conventional tones.

A sudden gleam of wicked mirth flashed across his face.

"Has the time, then, seemed so long?" he demanded coolly.

Diana's lips trembled in the vain effort to repress a smile. The man was
impossible! It was also very difficult, she found, to remain righteously
angry with such an impossible person.

If he saw the smile, he gave n