and strong. Her warm breath fell upon his cheek, and her eyes
maddened him. A curiously faint perfume from her clothes floated upon
the air, and oppressed him with its peculiar richness. He was a strong
man but at that moment he faltered. It seemed as though some unseen
hand were weaving a spell upon him, as though his whole environment
was being drawn in around him, and he himself were powerless. Yet,
even in that moment of intoxication, his reason did not altogether
desert him. He knew that if he opened his arms to receive that
clinging figure, and drew the delicate, tear-stained face, full
of mute invitation, down to his, to be covered with passionate
kisses,--he knew that at that moment he would sign the death-warrant
to all that had seemed fair and sweet and comely in his life. Forever
he must live without self-respect, a dishonoured man in his own eyes,
perhaps some day in hers,--for he had no more faith in her love than
in his.

He held her hands tightly in his,--he had unwound them gently from his
neck,--and stood up face to face with her upon the hearthrug. The soft
fire-light threw up strange, ruddy gleams, which glowed around her and
shown in her dark eyes, fixed so earnestly and so passionately upon
his.

"Adrea," he said, and his low, hoarse tone sounded harsh and
unfamiliar to his ears, "you do not know----"

She interrupted him, she threw her arms again around his neck, and her
upturned face almost met his.

"I do know! I do know! I understand--everything! Only I--cannot live
without you, Paul!"

Her head sank upon his shoulder; he could not thrust her away. Very
gently he passed his arms around her, and drew her to him. He knew
that he could trust himself. For him the battle was over. Even as she
had crept into his arms, there had come to him a flash of memory--a
sudden, swift vision. The walls of the dimly lit, dainty little
chamber, with all its charm of faint perfume, soft lights, and
luxurious drapings, had opened before him, and he looked out upon
another world. A bare Northumbrian moor, with its tumbled masses of
grey rock, its low-hanging, misty clouds and silent tarns, stretched
away before his eyes. A strong, fresh breeze, salt-smelling and
bracing, cooled his hot face. The roar of a great ocean thundered in
his ears, and an angry sunset burned strange colours into the
western sky. And with these actual memories came a healthier tone of
feeling--something, indeed, of the old North-country