turn, blazed and tingled; murder was in the ends of her
fingers that quivered towards him. Luckily she had dropped the pickaxe.
But her movements were slow, and his quick, and he got behind her in an
instant. Next moment, without realizing what he was doing, he pushed her
violently. She stumbled a few steps and fell heavily against the blunt
end of the pickaxe. For an instant he stood looking at her; the next
moment with a hoarse cry he was kneeling beside her.

"Oh my darling," he cried. "I told you I'd kill you in the end! I told
you the damn stuff was making a madman of me."

The whisky vanished from him like the flashing of lightning. Lifting her
in his arms he carried her homewards and laid her down on the verandah.
Frantic with fear he was going to fetch Mrs. Twist when she sat up
rather shakily and looked at him.

"I suppose that's what you've been expecting me to do--faint all over
the place--swounds and vapours," she said, laughing faintly. "Louis, it
was a horrible feeling."

"Marcella," he sobbed, kissing her hands, kneeling beside her desperate
in his self-abasement. "I thought I'd killed you."

"You're not much of a doctor if you don't know I'd take much more
killing than that," she said. "And I wanted to kill you for a minute, so
we're equal."

In a torrent all his explanations came pouring out. He had thought the
whisky hunger was killed; he had tried to test his certainty and had
failed.

"I got cocky, old girl. I swanked to myself! I thought I'd got it beat
and I'd just go and have one whisky at the Station Hotel to satisfy my
own conviction. But when I'd had one I couldn't help it. I seemed to be
outside myself, watching myself for the first two or three. I was
interested. I kept thinking 'I'll tell Marcella she need not be
frightened any more. I can drink two or three whiskies and not be a
bally Blue Ribboner any more. We need not be banished to the Bush for
the rest of our lives to keep me out of danger.' Then I got muddled and
quite lost grip. It had a sort of chemical effect, you know. I hated you
for keeping me from whisky that was making me feel so fine and jolly
again. I felt I'd been a bit of a prig lately. I loved the stationmaster
and a few manganese miners who came in. In fact, I just wallowed again.
I came home hating you. I didn't come to see you. I came for money. And
that's all. The whole thing's hopeless."

"It was my fault this time, Louis. I went to bed and left you. If I'd