her
back--even if I'd killed her afterwards."

His voice vibrated on a deep note of savagery. He poured out a glass of
wine with a hand that shook.

Avery said nothing, but through the silence she was conscious of the hard
throbbing of her heart. There was something implacable, something almost
cruel, about Piers at that moment. She felt as if he had bruised her
without knowing it.

And then in his sudden, bewildering way he left his chair and came to
her, stooped boyishly over her. "My darling, you're so awfully pale
to-night. Have some wine--to please me!"

She leaned her head back against his shoulder and closed her eyes. "I am
a little tired, dear; but I don't want any wine. I shall be all right in
the morning."

He laid his cheek against her forehead. "I want you to drink a toast with
me. Won't you?"

"We won't drink to each other," she protested, faintly smiling. "It's
too like drinking to ourselves."

"That's the sweetest thing you've ever said to me," he declared. "But we
won't toast ourselves. We'll drink to the future, Avery, and--" he
lowered his voice--"and all it contains. What?"

Her eyes opened quickly, but she did not move. "Why do you say that?"

"What?" he said again very softly.

She was silent.

He reached a hand for his own glass. "Drink with me, sweetheart!" he said
persuasively.

She suffered him to put it to her lips and drank submissively. But in a
moment she put up a restraining hand. "You finish it!" she said, and
pushed it gently towards him.

He took it and held it high. The light gleamed crimson in the wine; it
glowed like liquid fire. A moment he held it so, then without a word he
carried it to his lips and drained it.

A second later there came the sound of splintering glass, and Avery,
turning in her chair, discovered that he had flung it over his shoulder.

She gazed at him in amazement astonished by his action. "Piers!"

But something in his face checked her. "No one will ever drink out of
that glass again," he said. "Are you ready? Shall we go in the garden for
a breath of air?"

She went with him, but on the terrace outside he stopped impulsively.
"Avery darling, I don't mean to be a selfish beast; but I've got to prowl
for a bit. Would you rather go to bed?"

His arm was round her; she leaned against him half-laughing. "Do you
know, dear, that bedroom frightens me with its magnificence! Don't prowl
too long!"

He bent to her swiftly. "Avery! Do you want me?