he said. "I'm going to keep her here till she'll be glad to be
my wife, and then it'll be my turn to laugh. She can go home in the
morning."

"I want to sit down," Helen said.

She looked for a chair and sat on it, and he dropped to the bed, which
gave out a loud groaning sound. He hid his face in his hands and rocked
himself to and fro.

"She's tortured me," he muttered, and glared angrily at Helen.

She rose and went to him, saying, "Yes, but she's only a little girl.
You must remember that. And you're a man."

"Yes, by God!" he swore.

He raised both hands. "Get out of this!" he shouted. "She shall stay
here tonight." The hands went to Helen's shoulders and forced her to her
knees. "D'ye hear? I tell you she's made me mad!"

Helen was more pitiful than afraid. She hardly knew what she did, but
she thought God was in the room.

"George, I'll do anything in the world for you if you'll give her up.
Anything. You couldn't be so wicked. George, be quick. Before she wakes.
Shan't we carry her out now? Shan't we?" She forgot his manhood, and saw
him only as a big animal that might spring and must be soothed. "Let us
do that before she knows. George--"

He looked half stupefied as he said childishly, "But I swore I'd have
her, and I want her."

"But you don't love her. No, no, you don't." She laid a hand on his
knee. "Why, you've known us all our lives."

"Ah!" He sprang up and past her and the spell of the soft hands and
voice was broken. He sneered at her. "You thought you'd done it that
time!"

"Yes," she said sadly, and put herself between him and Miriam. With her
chin on her clasped hands, and her steady eyes, she seemed to be the
thing he had always wanted, for the lack of which he had suffered, been
tormented.

"George," she said, "I'll give you everything I have--"

He caught his breath. "Yourself?" he asked on an inspiration that held
him astonished, eager and translated.

She looked up as if she had been blinded, then stiffly she moved her
head. "What do you mean?"

"Give me yourself. Oh, I've been mad tonight--for days--she made me." He
pointed to the limp and gracious figure on the floor and leaned against
the bed-rail. "Mad! And you, all the time, out there on the moor against
the sky. Helen, promise!"

Her voice had no expression when she said, "I promised anything you
asked for. Bring some water."

But he still stood, dazed and trembling.

"Bring some water," she said again.

He spi