ens; at another, she was faint with
love-sickness, when she clung tremulously to her lover for support.

Above, the stars shone out with a yet greater brilliance and in immense
profusion. Now and again, a shooting star would dart swiftly down to go
out suddenly. The multitude of many coloured stars dazzled her brain.
It seemed to her love-intoxicated imagination as if night embraced the
earth, even as Perigal held her body to his, and that the stars were an
illumination and were twinkling so happily in honour of the double
union. For all the splendid egotism born of human passion, the immense
intercourse of night and earth seemed to reduce her to insignificance.
She crept closer to Perigal's side, as if he could give her the
protection she needed. He too, perhaps, was touched with the same
lowliness, and the same hunger for the support of loving sympathy. His
hand sought hers; and with a great wonder, a great love and a great
humility in their hearts, they walked home.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

THE CURSE OF EVE

A little one was journeying to Mavis. A great fear, not unmixed with a
radiant wonder, filled her being. It was now three months since her
joyous stay with Perigal at Polperro. At the expiration of an
all-too-brief fortnight, she had gone back, dazed, intoxicated with
passion, to her humdrum work at the Melkbridge boot factory; while
Perigal, provided by his father with the sinews of war, had departed
for Wales, there to lay siege to elusive fortune. During this time,
Mavis had seen him once or twice, when he had paid hurried visits to
Melkbridge, and had heard from him often. Although his letters made
copious reference to the never-to-be-forgotten joys they had
experienced at Polperro, she scanned them anxiously, and in vain, for
any reference to his marrying her now, or later. The omission caused
her many painful hours; she realised more and more that, after the
all-important part she had suffered him to play in her life, it would
not be meet for her to permit any other man to be on terms other than
friendship with her. It was brought home to her, and with no uncertain
voice, how, in surrendering herself to her lover, she was no longer his
adored Mavis, but nothing more nor less than his "thing," who was
wholly, completely in his power, to make or mar as he pleased.

During these three months, she had seen or heard nothing of Windebank,
so concluded that he was away.

* * * *