esult of his words, her life seemed
suddenly to stretch before her, just as dry, and dusty, and
commonplace, as the street she looked down on.

"I want to show you, too," he continued behind her, "that you haven't
utterly thrown yourself away. I know how little I can do; but honest
endeavour must count for something. I ask nothing better than to work
for you, Louise--and you know it."

A wave of warm air came in at the window; the dying afternoon turned to
twilight.

"Yes ... and I? What am I to do? What room is there for me in your
plans of work?"

He glanced sharply at her; but she had not moved.

"Louise, dearest! I know that what I say must sound selfish and
inconsiderate. And yet I can't help it. I'm forced to ask you to wait
... merely to wait. And for what? Good Heavens, no one realises it as I
do! I have nothing to offer you, in return--but my love for you. But if
you knew how strong that is--if you knew how happy I am resolved to
make you! Have a little patience, darling! It will all come right in
the end--if only you love me! And you do, don't you? Say once more you
do."

She turned so swiftly that the tail of her dressing-gown twisted, and
fell over on itself.

"Can you still ask that? Have you not had proof enough? Is there an
inch of you that doesn't believe in my love for you? Oh, Maurice! ...
It's only that I'm tired to-night--and restless. I was so wretched at
having to come back. And the heat has got on my nerves. I wish a great
storm would come, and shake the house, and make the branches of the
trees beat against the panes--do you remember? And we were so safe. The
worse the storm was, the closer you held me." She sat down beside him,
on the arm of the sofa. "Such a night seemed doubly wild after the
long, still days that had gone before it--do you remember?--Oh, why had
it all to end? Weren't we happy enough? Or did we ask too much? Why
must time go just the same over happiness and unhappiness alike?" She
got up again, and strayed back to the window. "Days like those will
never--CAN never--come again. Even as it is, coming back has made a
difference. Could you even yesterday have spoken as you do to-day? Was
there any room then for common sense between us? No, we were too happy.
It was enough to know we were alive."

"Be reasonable, darling. I am as sorry as you that these weeks are
over; but, glorious as they were, they couldn't last for ever. And
trust me; we shall know other days just as