speak to him as she wished. But desire choked her power to choose
her words; so many rushed through her brain that she had to pause,
seeking which of them to utter; and that long pause, in which she
really seemed to have uttered them all aloud, checked the impulse. But
surely he had heard her? No; for she had not spoken yet. And before she
could make the effort he had stopped whistling, and when she looked at
him to speak, he was fumbling restlessly about his pillow.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Something I had--where's my clothes?"

She brought them to him, and he searched them till he had found among
them a small metal box which he thrust under the pillow; and then he
lay back, as though too tired to notice her. So her impulse died in
her, unacted on.

And during the next four days it was always so. A dozen times in their
talks she tried to come near him, and could not. Was it because he
would not let her? or because the thing she wished to find in him was
not really there? Sometimes by his manner only, and sometimes by his
words, he baffled her when she attempted to approach him--and the
attempt had been so painful to conceive, and its still-birth was such
agony to her. He would talk frequently of the time when he would be
making tracks again.

"Where to?" asked Helen.

"I leave it to chance. I always have. I've never made plans. Or very
seldom. And I'm not often twice in the same place. You look tired. I'm
sorry to be a bother to you. But it'll be for the last time, most
likely. Go and lie down."

"I don't want to," said Helen under her breath. And in her thoughts she
was crying, "The last time? Then it must be soon, soon! I'll make you
listen to me now!"

"I want to sleep," said Peter.

She left the room. Tears of helplessness and misery filled her eyes.
She was almost angry with him, but more angry with herself; but her
self-anger was mixed with shame. She was ashamed that he made her feel
so much, while he felt nothing. Did he feel nothing?

"It's my stupidity that keeps us apart," she whispered. "I will break
through it!" As quickly as she had left him she returned, and stood by
the bed. He was lying with his hand pressed over his eyes. When he was
conscious of her being there, his hand fell, and his keen eyes shot
into hers. His brows contracted.

"You nuisance," he muttered, and hid his eyes again. She turned and
left him. When she got outside the door she leaned against it and shook
from head t