. Are you comfortable, little heart? Let me look at you
again. You are just like a pale flower in a wood. Here, in the darkness,
there might be trees and you gleaming up, a flower--"

She dropped her forehead to his knees. "I wish--I were--that flower."

She felt his body tighten. "What has happened?"

"I'll tell you soon."

"No, now."

"When you have seen Notya. She might notice if we looked--queer."

"Then let us go to her at once."

* * * * *

Mildred Caniper cut short the interview, saying, "Take him away, Helen.
I'm tired. I'm always tired now."

"Come into Jane," Helen said when they were on the landing. "No one will
disturb us there. Let Jim come, too."

"He isn't fit to be in your bedroom, dear. Neither am I. And how like
you it is!"

"It's cold," she said. Through the window she saw that the new snow had
covered George's tracks. "Cold--cold."

He put his arms round her. "I'm back again, and I can only believe it
when I'm holding you. Now tell me what's the matter."

"Shall I? Shall I? Don't hold me, or I can't. It's--oh, you have to
know. I'm married, Zebedee."

Plainly he did not think her sane. "This can't be true," he said in a
voice that seemed to drop from a great height.

"Yes, it's true. I can show you the thing--the paper. Here it is. Do you
want to read it? Oh, yes, it's true."

"But it can't be! I don't understand! I don't understand it. Who--For
God's sake, tell me the whole tale."

She told it quickly, in dull tones, and as she watched his face she saw
a sickly grey colour invade his tan.

"Don't, don't look like that!" she cried.

"Are you quite sure you're married?" he asked in his new voice. "Let me
look at this thing."

Outside, the snow fell thicker, darkening the room, and as she took a
step nearer, she saw the muscles twitching in his cheeks. He laid the
paper on her dressing-table.

"May his soul rot!" he whispered. He did not look at her. Darkness and
distance lay between them, but fearfully she crept up to him and touched
his arm.

"Zebedee--"

He turned swiftly, and his face made her shrink back.

"You--you dare to tell me this! And you said you loved me. I thought you
loved me."

"I did. I do," she moaned, and her hands fluttered. "Zebedee," she
begged.

"Oh--did you think I was going to wish you happiness? I'd rather see you
dead. I could have gone on loving you if you were dead, believing you
had loved me."

"And do y