what we are waiting for," he said, with his arm about her,
drawing her close. "All this pomp and circumstance is nothing but a
hindrance. It's you I want, not your wedding finery. You had better be
married first and get the finery afterwards, as it isn't to be in town."

"Oh, but I want a big wedding," protested Dinah. "It's going to be such
fun."

He laughed, holding her pointed chin between his finger and thumb. "I
believe that's all you care about, you little heartless witch. I don't
count at all. You'd have enjoyed this week every bit as well if I hadn't
been here."

She winced a little at his words, for somehow they went home. "There
hasn't been much time for anything, has there?" she said. "But--but I've
enjoyed the motor rides, and--and I ought to thank you for being so very
good to me."

He kissed the quivering lips, and she slipped a shy arm round his neck
with the feeling that she owed it to him. But she did not return his
kisses, for she was afraid to feed the flame that already leapt so high.

"You've nothing to thank me for," he said presently, when she turned her
face at last abashed into his shoulder. "I may be giving more than you at
this stage, but it won't be so later. You shall have the opportunity of
paying me back in full. How does that appeal to you, Daphne the demure?
Are you going to be a good little wife to me?"

"I'll try," she whispered.

"And give me all I ask--always?"

"I'll try," she whispered again more faintly, conscious of that
terrifying sense of being so merged into his overwhelming personality
that the very breath she drew seemed not her own.

He lifted her into his arms, holding her hard pressed against the
throbbing of his heart. "You wisp of thistledown!" he said. "You feather!
How have you managed to set me on fire like this? I think of nothing but
you--the fairy wonder of you--day and night. If you were to slip out of
my reach now, I believe I should follow and kill you."

Dinah lay across his breast in palpitating submission to his will. She
could hear his heart beating like a rising tempest, and the force of his
passion overcame her like a tornado. His kisses were like the flames of a
fiery furnace. She felt stifled, shattered by his violence. But in the
room beyond she still heard that steady voice reading aloud, and it kept
her from panic. She knew that she had only to raise her own voice, and he
would be with her,--Greatheart of the golden armour, strong and fea