ay, Dick," she said, "if you can stay and
behave nicely. I thought it was horribly selfish of you to go off as you
did last winter. I think so still. If you had got killed, I should have
been very--very--"

"What?" demanded Derrick impatiently. "Sorry? Angry--what?"

"Angry," said Averil, with great decision. "I should never have forgiven
you. I am not sure that I shall, as it is."

Derrick uttered a sudden passionate laugh. Then abruptly his mood
changed. He held out his hands to her.

"Averil!" he said. "Averil! Can't you see how I want you--how I love
you? Why do you treat me like this? I've thought about you, dreamt about
you, day after day, night after night, ever since I went away. You
thought it beastly selfish of me to go. But it hasn't been such fun,
after all. All the weeks I was in hospital I felt sick for the sight of
you. It was worse than starvation. Can't you see what it is to me? Can't
you see that I--I worship you?"

"My dear Dick!" Averil put her hands into his, but her gesture was one
of restraint. "You mustn't talk so wildly," she said. "And, dear boy, do
try not to be quite so impulsive--so headstrong. You know, you--you--"

She broke off. Derrick, with a set jaw and burning eyes, was drawing her
to him, strongly, irresistibly.

"Derrick!" she said, with a flash of anger.

"I can't help it!" Derrick said passionately. "I've been counting on
this, living for this. Averil I--I--you can call me mad if you like,
but if you send me away again--I believe I shall shoot myself."

"What nonsense!" exclaimed Averil, half-angry, half-scornful.

He dropped her hands and stood quite still for the space of a few
seconds, his face white and twitching. And then, to her utter amazement,
he sank heavily into a chair and covered his face with his hands.

"Dick!" she ejaculated.

Silence followed the word, a breathless silence. Derrick sat perfectly
motionless, his fingers gripping his hair. At last Averil moved up to
him, a little frightened by his stillness, and very intensely
compassionate. She bent and touched his shoulder.

"Dick!" she said. "Dick! Don't!"

He stirred under her hand, but did not raise his head. "Get away,
Averil!" he muttered. "You don't understand."

And quite suddenly Averil was transported back to the far, receding
schooldays, when Derrick had got into trouble for smoking his first
cigar. The memory unconsciously influenced her speech.

"But, Dick," she said persuasively, "do