erly unnerved you are in
everything you say."

"I'm not unnerved!" Her hand wandered blindly to the table near which
she was standing. She leant on it imperceptibly for support. "I'm
not unnerved," she repeated.

"But you are, my dear child. And why should you want to hide that
from me?"

She stood there, swaying slightly, taking deep breaths to aid her
in her effort.

"Well, I assure you I feel absolutely all right now. I'm not a bit
weak now! I know I was ridiculously foolish--"

"Yes, that's the point I want to get at," he interrupted; "that's
just the point I want to get hold of." He did not even appreciate
his want of consideration then in pressing her to answer. "Why do
you call it foolish? It was I who was foolish; I, entirely, who am
to blame. I ought to have known that that was not a fit sight for
any woman not accustomed to look on at such things. And because you
can't stand it, you call yourself foolish."

Sally walked with an effort across to the armchair with the rushed
seat and sank quietly into it.

"I only mean it was foolish," she explained, "because it was a silly
thing to do, the first time that I come to your rooms, for me to faint
like that. Do you think you'll feel inclined to ask me again? Isn't
it natural that a man should hate a scene of that kind? I only hope
that you won't think I easily faint; I don't; I've never--"

Traill leant forward on his knees. Understanding was dawning in him,
it burnt a light in his eyes.

"Do you want to come again, then?" he asked.

So keen was he upon getting his answer, that he could not see the
climax of hysteria towards which he was bringing her. But against
that she was fighting, most fiercely of all. Like the rising water
in a gauge, it was leaping in sudden bounds within her. But to break
into tears, to murmur incoherently between laughter and sobbing that
it could not be helped, but she loved him, wildly, passionately,
would give every shred of her body into his hands if he would but
take it--against this, in the sweating of her whole strength, she
was battling lest he should guess her secret.

"Do you want to come again, then?" he repeated, when she continued
to look at him with frightened eyes, saying nothing.

"Yes, of course; of course I do."

"But why--why?" he insisted.

This reached the summit of his cruelty--blind cruelty it may have
been--but it dragged her also to the climax of her mood. Like the
falling of the Tower of Babel,