r.

Dinner was waiting for them at the flat, as he had said, and there was a
maid in attendance who looked with kindly interest at Faith as she took
her to her room.

"May I take off your boots for you?" she asked, as Faith stood
helplessly by the dressing-table. "You must be tired. I will bring some
hot water, and when you have had dinner you will feel better."

Forrester had felt bound to tell her something of the circumstances of
his unusual marriage, and she was deeply interested. She felt sorry for
Faith, too. Possibly she could afford to be, seeing the generous salary
which Forrester had offered her if she would stay with his wife and do
everything in her power to help her and make her happy.

Faith looked at her with troubled eyes.

"Must I go down to dinner?"

The girl smiled kindly.

"I think you had better. Mr. Forrester will be disappointed if you do
not."

"I don't care," said Faith.

But she went all the same, and managed to eat something.

The Beggar Man made her drink some wine, which brought a faint colour to
her white cheeks.

She no longer looked round the room with interest or admiration; she
felt like a creature at bay, captured against her will by this man.

When dinner was ended and cleared away Forrester drew up an armchair for
her. "Sit down; I want to talk to you," he said.

"Well?"

But she stood where she was, with the chair between them.

He had meant to be kind and affectionate, but the antagonism in that one
monosyllable dispersed all his good resolutions. He was sick of scenes,
tired of being held at arms' length; reluctantly he had grown to see
that this marriage had been the greatest mistake of his life, that he
had been a fool to imagine he could mould this girl to his own wishes
and desires, child as she seemed. There was a strong will in the slim,
soft body which defied him.

With a swift movement he caught her in his arms. She gave a quick,
frightened breath, but before she could speak he had kissed her
lips--kissed the eyes that closed in terror before his, and the soft
face that turned from him with such desperation.

She was a child in his arms, but though she could not escape from him,
her lips felt like steel beneath his. He might break her body, but he
could never bend her will. Through every nerve in his body he could feel
that she hated and feared him, and at last with sullen anger and
bitterness he let her go, so violently that she staggered and almost