eager to report to the arch conspirator.
Rising from the chair, he lifted her to her feet.

"Come, darling--it is late----"

He led her slowly, almost imperceptibly, in the direction of the inner
room. A feeling of languor came over her, and she allowed him to lead
her, abandoning herself to his ardent, feverish embrace, responding
every now and then to the hot kisses he rained on her mouth and neck.
Through her thin dress he could feel her soft form pressing against
him. From her neck arose a delicious aroma, a kind of feminine incense
that still further aroused and lashed his desire.

"I adore you--I adore you!" he murmured, as he kissed her again.
Slowly he led her past the bookcase and marble Venus to the open door
of her pink and white boudoir.

[Illustration: "I adore you--I adore you" he murmured, as he kissed her
again.]

She looked up at him in surprise.

"How you love me!" she murmured. "You never used to care for me like
this."

Her head on his shoulder, her eyes half closed, she was conscious only
of the presence of the man she loved better than anyone in the world.

Yet even now, in the hour of her supreme content and felicity, when all
her tormenting anxieties and doubts had been dissipated by his frank
words of denial, there was still something that worried her. He was
changed somehow, even in his love making. It was delicious to be loved
passionately, fiercely, like this--to be carried off by force, as it
were, by your own husband. But she did not understand how a man could
change so much in a few weeks. Kenneth had always loved her deeply,
but never had she known him display such ardor as this. She had heard
that men change, particularly after long absences from home. Some, she
had heard, became colder; others were more demonstrative. Of the two,
she thought the latter preferable. If there was such love in the
world, why should it not be shown her. Her own temperament was cold,
but no woman could but feel flattered that she possessed the power to
arouse men to such passion.

At last they had reached the threshold of the boudoir. What to him was
an earthly paradise, was almost attained. In a state of blissful
helplessness, intoxicated by a delicious sensation of being completely
dominated by a will stronger than her own, she permitted him to take
her where he wished. Her eyes closed, her head on his shoulder, she
submitted willingly to his fervent kisses. Another moment and he