yp."

"No, no; so many women lose men's love because they seem to claim things
of them. I don't want to lose yours that way--that's all."

"That's silly, darling!"

"It's not. Men--and women, too--always tug at chains. And when there is
no chain--"

"Well then; let me take the house, and you can go away when you're tired
of me." His voice sounded smothered, resentful; she could hear him
turning and turning, as if angry with his pillows. And she murmured:

"No; I can't explain. But I really mean it."

"We're just beginning life together, and you talk as if you want to split
it up. It hurts, Gyp, and that's all about it."

She said gently:

"Don't be angry, dear."

"Well! Why don't you trust me more?"

"I do. Only I must make as sure as I can."

The sound came again of his turning and turning.

"I can't!"

Gyp said slowly:

"Oh! Very well!"

A dead silence followed, both lying quiet in the darkness, trying to get
the better of each other by sheer listening. An hour perhaps passed
before he sighed, and, feeling his lips on hers, she knew that she had
won.

III

There, in the study, the moonlight had reached her face; an owl was
hooting not far away, and still more memories came--the happiest of all,
perhaps--of first days in this old house together.

Summerhay damaged himself out hunting that first winter. The memory of
nursing him was strangely pleasant, now that it was two years old. For
convalescence they had gone to the Pyrenees--Argeles in March, all
almond-blossom and snows against the blue--a wonderful fortnight. In
London on the way back they had their first awkward encounter. Coming
out of a theatre one evening, Gyp heard a woman's voice, close behind,
say: "Why, it's Bryan! What ages!" And his answer defensively drawled
out:

"Halo! How are you, Diana?"

"Oh, awfully fit. Where are you, nowadays? Why don't you come and see
us?"

Again the drawl:

"Down in the country. I will, some time. Good-bye."

A tall woman or girl--red-haired, with one of those wonderful white skins
that go therewith; and brown--yes, brown eyes; Gyp could see those eyes
sweeping her up and down with a sort of burning-live curiosity. Bryan's
hand was thrust under her arm at once.

"Come on, let's walk and get a cab."

As soon as they were clear of the crowd, she pressed his hand to her
breast, and said:

"Did you mind?"

"Mind? Of course not. It's for you to mind."

"Who