intimacy, they approached any nearer to one another. During
those days they stared at one another like children on different sides
of a fence. They were definitely postponing settlement, and with every
day Maggie grew more restless and uneasy. She wanted back that old
friendly comradeship that there had been before their marriage. He
seemed now to have lost altogether that attitude to her. Then on the
very day of Grace's return the storm broke. It was tea-time and they
were having it, as usual, in his dusty study. They were sitting someway
apart--Paul in the old leather armchair by the fire, his thick body
stretched out, his cheerful good-humoured face puckered and peevish.

Maggie stood up, looking at him.

"Paul, what's the matter?" she asked.

"Matter," he repeated. "Nothing."

"Oh yes, there is ... You're cross with me."

"No, I'm not. What an absurd idea!" He moved restlessly, turning half
away, not looking at her. She came close up to him.

"Look here, Paul. There is something the matter. We haven't been
married a fortnight yet and you're unhappy. Whatever else we married
for we married because we were going to be friends. So you've just got
to tell me what the trouble is."

"I've got my sermon to prepare," he said, not looking at her, but half
rising in his chair. "You'd better go, darling."

"I'm not going to," she answered, "until you've told me why you're
worrying."

He got up slowly and seemed then as though he were going to pass her.
Suddenly he turned, flung his arms round her, catching her, crushing
her in his arms, kissing her wildly.

"Love ... love me ... love me," he whispered. "That's what's the
matter. I didn't know myself before I married you, Maggie. All these
years I've lived like a fish and I didn't know it. But I know it now.
And you've got to love me. You're my wife and you've got to love me."

She would have given everything that she had then to respond. She felt
an infinite tenderness and pity for him. But she could not. He felt
that she could not. He let her go and turned away from her. She thought
for a moment wondering what she ought to say, and then she came up to
him and gently put her hand on his shoulder.

"Be patient, Paul," she said. "You know we agreed before we married
that we'd be friends at any rate and let the rest come. Wait ..."

"Wait!" he turned round eagerly, clutching her arm. "Then there is a
chance, Maggie? You can get to love me--you can forget that othe