nt out to her again, and slowly
hers went to meet it, but though her fingers clasped and twined,
thrilling in mute passion to his touch, she came no nearer, but watched
him from the shadow of her hair with great troubled eyes.

"Dear," he said, very humbly, "you do--love me still, don't you?"

"More than ever."

"Then you're not--sorry to be my wife?"

"No--ah, no, no!" she whispered, "never that!"

"Then, dear, won't you--will you kiss me?" Seeing she hesitated, he
sank back on his pillow and laughed a little ruefully. "I forgot these
confounded whiskers--I must look an unholy object. Patterson shall shave
me, and then perhaps--"

But sudden and warm and soft her arms were about him, and her eyes,
troubled no longer, gazed into his, brimful of yearning tenderness.

"Oh, my dear, my dear," she murmured, quick and passionate, "as if I
should ever care how you looked as long as you were--just you. My dear,
my dear, you have come back to me from the very gates of death because
I--I--"

"Because you nursed me so tenderly!"

"Ah, no, there were others to do that--no, God gave you back to me
because He is merciful, and because I love you--want you--need you so
much!"

"Oh, my Hermione--Kiss me!"

A knock at the door, and, quick-breathing, she drew from him as the
voice of Mrs. Trapes reached them.

"Ten minutes is up!" she announced as she entered, "and Hermy, if you
don't want th' doctor t' see you in your nightdress an' that--"

"Ann!" gasped Hermione, drawing the folds of her kimono about her.

"Anyway, he's coming."

Up sprang Hermione, in doing which she lost a slipper.

"Give it me!" she pleaded, for Ravenslee had caught it up.

"Dear, you have one--be content," he answered. "And surely I may kiss
my wife's slipper without you having to blush so--so deliciously,
Hermione?"

"It's so--old and shabby!" said she faintly.

"That's why I kiss it."

"An' here comes th' doctor!" said Mrs. Trapes. Whereat Hermione
incontinent fled away, white foot agleam. Then Ravenslee, having kissed
the little slipper quite brazenly under Mrs. Trapes's staring eyes,
tucked it beneath his pillow.

"Why, Mr. Geoffrey!" said Mrs. Trapes.

CHAPTER XXXVI

CONCERNING A CLEW

"Mrs. Trapes," said Ravenslee, laying aside the book he had been reading
and letting his glance wander across smooth lawns and clipped yew
hedges, "Mrs. Trapes, what about that stewed shin of beef with carrots
and onions you prepared for