le slender body quivered with
a wave of rebellion.

"Let us say no more about the matter, but go into lunch, only you will
find that I am not such a weakling, as you no doubt supposed you would
have to deal with." I hobbled up from my chair, Burton discreetly not
having entered the room. Alathea gave me my crutch, and we went in to
the dining-room.

While the servants were in there I led the conversation upon the war
news, and ordinary subjects, and she played the game, but when we were
alone with the coffee, I filled her glass with Benedictine, which she
had refused when Burton handed the liqueurs. She had taken no wine at
all.

"Now drink whatever toast you like," I told her. "I am going to drink
one to the time when you don't hate me so much and we can have a little
quiet friendship and peace."

She sipped her glass, and her eyes became inscrutable. What she was
thinking of I do not know.

I find myself watching those eyes all the time. Every reflection passes
through them, they are as expressive of all shades of emotion as the
eyes of a cat, though the beautiful Madonna tenderness I have never seen
again since the day when she held the child in her arms, and I was rude
to her.

When we went back into the salon I knew that I was passionately in love
with her. Her restiveness is absolutely alluring, and excites all my
hunting instinct. She looks quite lovely, and the subtle magnetism which
drew me the first days, even when she appeared poor and shabby, and red
of hand, is stronger than ever--I felt that I wanted to crush her in my
arms and devour her, the blood thumped in my temples, I had to use every
atom of my will with myself, and lay back in my chair and closed my eye.

She went straight to the piano and began to play. It seemed as though
she were talking, telling me of the passion in her soul. She played
weird Russian dances and crashed agonizing chords, then she played
laments, and finally a soft and soothing thing of McDowell's, and every
note had found an echo in me, and I had followed, it almost seemed, all
her pain.

"You play divinely, child," I said, when she had finished. "I am going
to rest now, will you give me some tea later on?"

"Yes," and her voice was quite meek, while she helped me with my
crutch, and I went to the door of my room.

"I would like you to wear nice soft teagowns. My eye gets so wearied
with everything bright after a while. I hope--you have got all you want,
and that y