ause he doesn't, I SHALL..."

And when she ceased to please him, what then? Had he the tradition of
faith to the spoken vow, or the deeper piety of the unspoken dedication?
What was his theory, what his inner conviction in such matters? But what
did she care for his convictions or his theories? No doubt he loved her
now, and believed he would always go on loving her, and was persuaded
that, if he ceased to, his loyalty would be proof against the change.
What she wanted to know was not what he thought about it in advance, but
what would impel or restrain him at the crucial hour. She put no faith
in her own arts: she was too sure of having none! And if some beneficent
enchanter had bestowed them on her, she knew now that she would have
rejected the gift. She could hardly conceive of wanting the kind of love
that was a state one could be cozened into...

Darrow, putting away the frame, walked across the room and sat down
beside her; and she felt he had something special to say.

"They're sure to send for me in a day or two now," he began.

She made no answer, and he continued: "You'll tell me before I go what
day I'm to come back and get you?"

It was the first time since his return to Givre that he had made any
direct allusion to the date of their marriage; and instead of answering
him she broke out: "There's something I've been wanting you to know. The
other day in Paris I saw Miss Viner."

She saw him flush with the intensity of his surprise.

"You sent for her?"

"No; she heard from Adelaide that I was in Paris and she came. She came
because she wanted to urge me to marry you. I thought you ought to know
what she had done."

Darrow stood up. "I'm glad you've told me." He spoke with a visible
effort at composure. Her eyes followed him as he moved away.

"Is that all?" he asked after an interval.

"It seems to me a great deal."

"It's what she'd already asked me." His voice showed her how deeply he
was moved, and a throb of jealousy shot through her.

"Oh, it was for your sake, I know!" He made no answer, and she added:
"She's been exceedingly generous...Why shouldn't we speak of it?"

She had lowered her head, but through her dropped lids she seemed to be
watching the crowded scene of his face.

"I've not shrunk from speaking of it."

"Speaking of her, then, I mean. It seems to me that if I could talk to
you about her I should know better----"

She broke off, confused, and he questioned: "What is it