. An
hour alone in a room with her would drive even a philosopher to madness.
She's one of the kind of people given to inappropriate silences. She
reminds me of an emotion undergoing a major operation. Good Lord, Anna,
don't tell me you're jealous of her?"

It was immaterial whether he denounced or upheld Rachel. To talk of her
even with indignation was a delight.

Thunder rolled, and he became silent. Anna turned her nakedness to him.
Her eyes, grown dark, beheld a yearning and a sorrow.

"Don't talk about people," she whispered. "I'm glad you hate them--all
of them."

Her nudity always surprised Dorn. Her body seemed always to have grown
more beautiful and impersonal. A shout of rain sounded in the night and
a chill wind burst with a clatter in the darkness. He thought of Rachel
as he darkened the room. There came to him a picture of her walking in
the rain with her head raised and laughing.

Anna lay for a moment, awed by the suddenness of the storm. She turned
quickly, her arms reaching hungrily about her husband.

"I love you," she whispered. "Oh, I love you so much. My own, my
dearest!"

She felt his lips touch hers, and closed her eyes.

"Tell me...."

Dorn murmured back to her, "I adore you."

A little laugh came, and tears reached her cheeks.

"You're so wonderful," she whispered. "Think of it! It's been the same
since the first night. You love me--just as you did."

She paused questioningly--an old question to which he gave an old
answer.

"I love you more."

"I know it. I can feel it. You won't ever get tired of loving me?"

"Never--never as long as I live."

"Oh, you make me so happy!"

A sigh almost like a moan came from her heart.

"Oh, I'm a fool. I get frightened sometimes--when I hear you talk.
Something takes you away. You mustn't ever go away. Promise me. Listen,
Erik." She dropped into a panic. "Promise me you won't go to war."

He laughed.

"That was only talk," he whispered. "You should know my talk by this
time."

"I'll never know you."

"Please, Anna, don't. You hurt me when you say that."

"And when you were silent," she went on softly, "I felt--I felt
something had happened. Erik, darling Erik. Oh, you're my whole life!"

"I adore you, sweetest," he murmured.

"I don't live except in you, Erik. And, oh, I'm a fool. Such a fool!"

"You're wonderful," he interrupted. He was making responses in an old
ritual.

"No, I'm not. I'll make you tired of me. Tell me, p