?" said his wife with her serene ironical smile. "My
dear Bernard, you tempt me to wish you were."

"Oh, not before tonight. Jolly time you'll have tonight, you and
Lawrence . . . I can only trust you'll respect the Stafford
child's innocence."

"Bernard! Bernard!"

"Don't you Bernard me. You can't take me in. Stop. Where are
you off to now?"

"To tell Lawrence not to get the tickets. I shan't go with him."

"You will go with him," said Bernard Clowes, his fingers
tightening on her wrist. "Stop here: come closer." He locked his
arm round her waist. "Is he your lover yet, Lally? Tell me: I
swear I won't kill you if you do. Are you on the borderland of
virtue still, or over it?"

"Let me go," said Laura, panting for breath under his clenched
grip. "I will not answer such questions. You know you don't
mean one word of them. Take care, you're tearing my blouse. Oh,
that frightful war! what has it done to you, to turn you from the
man I married into what you are?"

"What am I?"

"A madman, or not far off it. End this horrible life: send him
away. It's killing me, and as for you, if you were sane enough
to understand what you're doing, you would blow your brains out."

"Likely enough," said Bernard Clowes.

He let her go. "Come back to me now, Laura." His wife leant
over him, unfaltering, though she had known for some time that
she was dealing with the abnormal. "Kiss me." Laura touched his
lips. "That's better, old girl. I am a cross-grained devil and
I make your life a hell to you, don't I? But don't--don't leave
me. Don't chuck me over. Let me have your love to cling to. I
don't believe in God, I don't believe in any other man, often
enough I don't believe in myself, I feel, I feel unreal . . . ."
He stopped, shut his eyes, moved his head on the pillow, and felt
about over his rug with the blind groping hands of a delirious,
almost of a dying man. Laura gathered them up and held them to
her heart. "That's better," said Bernard, his voice gaining
strength as he opened his eyes on the beautiful still face bent
over him. "Just now and again, in my lucid moments, I do--I do
believe in you, old girl. You are just the one thing I have
left. You won't forsake me, will you, ever? not whatever I do to
you."

"Never, my darling."

"Seems a bit one-sided, that bargain," said Bernard.

He lay perfectly still for a little while, his great hands softly
pressed against his wife's firm bre