n she knew.

"Piers! Piers!" she said. "I am altogether yours. I love you. Don't
you know it?"

He drew a deep, quivering breath. "Yes--yes, I do know it," he said.
"But--but--Avery, I would go through hell for you. You are my religion,
my life, my all. I am not that to you. If--if I were dragged down, you
wouldn't follow me in."

His intensity shocked her, but she would not have him know it. She
sought to calm his agitation though she possessed no key thereto. "My
dear," she said, "you are talking wildly. You don't know what you are to
me, and I can't even begin to tell you. But surely--by now--you can take
me on trust."

He made a curious sound that was half-laugh, half-groan. "You don't know
yourself, Avery," he said.

"But you don't doubt my love, Piers," she protested very earnestly. "You
know that it would never fail you."

"Your love is like the moonlight, Avery," he answered. "It is all
whiteness and purity. But mine--mine is red like the fire that is
under the earth. And though sometimes it scorches you, it never quite
reaches you. You stoop to me, but you can't lift me. You are too far
above. And the moonlight doesn't always reach to the prisoner in the
dungeon either."

"All the same dear, don't be afraid that it will ever fail you!" she
said.

He kissed her again, hotly, lingeringly, and let her go. "Perhaps I shall
remind you of that one day," he said.

All through dinner his spirits were recklessly high. He talked
incessantly, playing the host with a brilliant ease that betrayed no sign
of strain. He did not seem to have a care in the world, and Avery
marvelled at his versatility.

She herself felt weary and strangely sick at heart. Those few words of
his had been a bitter revelation to her. She knew now what was wanting
between them. He desired passion from her rather than love. He had no use
for spiritual things. And she,--she knew that she shrank inwardly
whenever she encountered that fierce, untamed desire of his. It fettered
her spirit, it hung upon her like an overpowering weight. She could not
satisfy his wild Southern nature. He crushed her love with the very
fierceness of his possession and ever cried to her for more. He seemed
insatiable. Even though she gave him all she had, he still hungered,
still strove feverishly to possess himself of something further.

She felt worn out, body and soul, and she could not hide it. She was
unspeakably glad when at length the meal was over and s