a determined, not to be denied look in
his face as he exclaimed:

"Not just yet! Not just yet!"

Trembling in every limb, but endeavoring to remain calm, she looked up
at him pleadingly:

"Please let me go," she said coaxingly. "Be a nice, good husband and
say good-night--won't you, dear, please?"

He put his arm around her waist. Hoarsely, amorously, he whispered:

"Stay with me a little--I want you here."

"No, dear--please, dear!" she pleaded, quickly disentangling herself
from his grasp. "You'll make me so happy if you will! Besides, it's
quite late, remember, and I'm tired--I really am--"

He stood off a little way, looking more closely at her as if doubtful
that she was speaking the truth.

"Tired, are you?" he frowned.

"Yes, dear," she pleaded anxiously.

He laughed--a strange, horrid, artificial laugh which made her
shudder. She had heard that laugh before and it omened nothing good.
Quickly he said:

"I know the best thing in the world to cure that tired
feeling--champagne. We'll have some--what do you say?"

He leaned towards her, trying to fondle her, but she avoided him and,
falling back, stood looking at him. Her face was pale. Outwardly she
was composed, but her heart was beating fast. There must be some
explanation, after all. It might as well be now as later. Looking him
straight in the face with an expression of contempt and disdain in her
eyes that made him wince, she said coldly:

"So you've had some sent to your room--again?"

He nodded in half defiant, half ashamed fashion and Virginia, her tone
changing, pleaded with him earnestly:

"Don't touch it now, Robert. Please! Please!"

"Why not?" he demanded defiantly.

"You've had enough already."

"Oh, nonsense!" he exclaimed, "I'm all right. I can take twice as much
as I've had and not even feel it." Going towards the door he added:
"I'll tell Oku to bring it in here--"

She ran quickly to intercept him. That was just what she dreaded. If
he touched another drop he would be beyond control. It must be
prevented at any cost.

"No, Robert! No!" she pleaded.

Stafford stopped and stared at her in amazement.

"What's the matter?" he demanded.

"Don't take any more," she said, laying a hand coaxingly on his arm.
"Please, dear! It isn't good for you."

"Good for me!" he laughed. "Don't you worry about that. I know what's
good for me!" Determinedly he added: "I want that wine and I'm going
to have it."

"Then say good-night