His face looked self-conscious.

"Yes?"

"I only mean that I think it might be the verdict in advance."

"I see," she said slowly. "Yes, I see."

She got up.

"We simply must go to bed."

"Come along then. But I feel as if I should never want to sleep again."

"We must sleep. The verdict in advance--yes, I see. But Adelaide might
make a mistake."

"She really has a flair."

"I know. Oh, Claudie, the verdict!"

They were now in their bedroom. Charmian sighed and put her arms round
his neck.

"The verdict!" she breathed against his cheek softly.

He felt moisture on his cheek. She had pressed wet eyes against it.

"Charmian, what is it? Why--"

"Hush! Just put your arms round me for a minute--yes, like that!
Claudie, I want you to win, I want you to win. Oh, not altogether
selfishly! I--I am an egoist, I suppose. I do care for my husband to be
a success. But there's more than that. Yes, yes, there is!"

She held him, with passion, and suddenly kissed his eyes. She was crying
quite openly now, but not unhappily.

[Illustration: "'CLAUDIE, I WANT YOU TO WIN, I WANT YOU TO WIN!'"--_Page
378_]

"There's something in you far, far down, that I love," she whispered. "I
am not always conscious of it, but I am now. It called me to you, I
believe, at the very first. And I want that to win, I want that to win!"

Claude's face had become set. He bent over Charmian. For a moment he was
on the verge of a strange confession. But something that still had great
power held him back from it. And he only said:

"You have worked hard for me. If we do win it will be your victory."

"And if we lose?" she whispered.

"Charmian--" he kissed her. "We must try to sleep."

CHAPTER XXXI

On a night of unnatural excitement Claude had come to a crude
resolution. He kept to it, at first only by a strong effort, during the
days and the nights which followed, calling upon his will with a
recklessness he had never known before, a recklessness which made him
sometimes feel hard and almost brutal. He was "out for" success on the
large scale, and he was now fiercely determined to win it. Within him
the real man seemed to recede like a thing sensitive seeking a
hiding-place. Sometimes, during these strange and crowded days and
nights, he felt as if he were losing himself in the turmoil around him
and within him. And the wish came to him to lose himself, and to have
done for ever with that self which once he had cherished,