down Anne's face was
divinely tender, as if all the love in the world was in her heart. He
loved to agony that tender, downward-looking face.

She raised her eyes and saw his fixed on her, heavy and wounded, and his
face strained and drawn with pain. And again she was frightened.

"Jerrold, you _are_ ill. What is it?"

"Don't. They'll hear us." He glanced at the open door.

"They can't. He's in church and she's upstairs in the bedrooms."

"Can't you leave that animal and come somewhere where we can talk?"

"Come, then."

He followed her out through the hall and into the small, oak-panelled
dining-room. They sat down there in chairs that faced each other on
either side of the fireplace.

"What is it?" she repeated. "Have you got a pain?"

"A beastly pain."

"How long have you had it?"

"Ever since you went away. I lied when I told you it was Colin. It
isn't."

"What is it, then? Tell me. Tell me."

"It's not seeing you. It's this insane life we're leading. It's making
me ill. You don't know what it's been like. And I can't keep my promise.
I--I love you too damnably."

"Oh, Jerrold--does it hurt as much as that?"

"You know how it hurts."

"I don't want you to be hurt----But--darling--if you care for me like
that how could you marry Maisie?"

"Because I cared for you. Because I was so mad about you that nothing
mattered. I thought I might as well marry her as not."

"But if you didn't care for her?"

"I did. I do, in a way. Maisie's awfully sweet. Besides, it wasn't that.
You see, I was going out to France, and I thought I was bound to be
killed. Nobody could go on having the luck I'd had. I wanted to be
killed."

"So you were sure it would happen. You always thought things would
happen if you wanted them."

"I was absolutely sure. I was never more sold in my life than when it
didn't. Even then I thought it would be all right till Eliot told me.
Then I knew that if I hadn't been in such a damned hurry I might have
married you."

"Poor Maisie."

"Poor Maisie. But she doesn't know. And if she did I don't think she'd
mind much. I married her because I thought she cared about me--and
because I thought I'd be killed before I could come back to her--But she
doesn't care a damn. So you needn't bother about Maisie. And you won't
go away again?"

"I won't go away as long as you want me."

"That's all right then."

He looked at his watch.

"I must be off. They'll be coming out of church. I do