ed herself from his grasp and stood away from
him.

"Listen," she said. "Listen to me and then you'll understand what
you're asking. I'm not happy--that's true. But it's my own fault, not
Roger's. I ought never to have given him my promise. There was
someone else--"

"Mallory!" broke in Rooke.

"Yes--Peter. It's quite simple. We met too late. But I learned then
what love means. Once I asked him--I _begged_ him--to take me away
with him. And he wouldn't. I'd have gone to the ends of the earth
with him. I'd go to-morrow if he'd take me! But he won't. And he
never will." She paused, panting a little. "And now," she went on,
with a hard laugh, "I don't think you'll ask me again to go away with
you!"

"Yes, I shall. Mallory may be able to live at such high altitudes that
he can throw over his life's happiness--and yours, too--for a scruple.
I can't--and I don't want to. I love you, and I'm selfish enough to be
ready to take you any minute that you'll come."

Throwing one arm about her shoulders, he turned her face up to his.

"Don't you understand?" he went on hoarsely. "I'm flesh and blood man,
and you're the woman I love."

The hazel eyes blazed with a curious light, like flame, and she
shivered a little, fighting the man's personality--battling against
that strange kinship of temperament by which he always drew her.

"I can wait," he said, quietly releasing her. "You can't go on long as
you're living now; the tension's too high. And when you're through
with it--come to me, Nan! I'd at least make you happier than Trenby
ever will."

Without reply she moved towards the door and he stood aside, allowing
her to pass out of the room in silence.

In the hall she encountered Roger, who had ridden over, accompanied by
a trio of dogs, and the sight of his big, tweed-clad figure, so solidly
suggestive of normal, everyday things, filled her with an unexpected
sense of relief. He might not be the man she loved, but he was, at any
rate, a sheet-anchor in the midst of the emotional storms that were
blowing up around her.

To-day, however, his face wore a clouded, sullen expression when he
greeted her.

"What have you been doing with yourself?" he asked, his eyes fastening
suspiciously on her flushed cheeks.

She answered him with a poor attempt at her usual nonchalance.

"Oh, Maryon came over this morning, so I've been sitting to him."

"All day? I don't like it too well." The look of disple