want anything to eat."

"Oh yes, you do! I suppose I must set you an example of common-sense
behaviour."

He peeled two bananas with deliberate care, and set one on her plate.
Then he lifted the cosy.

"That tea must be strong by this time; but the water's hot, and you
can doctor it with that. Now--begin."

He himself began upon his banana, and she glanced at him in
astonishment, not untinged with admiration, at his effortless
transition from controlled passion to the commonplaces of everyday
life. They got through the short meal after a fashion; and both were
devoutly thankful when the demands of common-sense had been fulfilled.

Wyndham rose, and lit a cigarette.

"Now, I'll leave you to yourself for five minutes," he announced. "It
is getting late. But before we go for our ride this matter must be
settled once for all." He laid both hands on the table and looked
steadily into her face. "You are the most just-minded woman I know.
Look all round the question before you decide. Try to realise a little
what it will mean for me to give up all hope. In losing you, I lose
everything. There can be no question of any one else for me. Take me
or--leave me, I am _yours_ for the rest of my life."

He turned away to save her from the necessity of answering, and walked
to the far end of the verandah, leaving her alone with the strongest
temptation she had yet experienced--the temptation to trample on her
own imperious love, and to accept this man's selfless devotion in the
hope that it might one day conquer and monopolise her heart.

Had marriage with Wyndham entailed immediate removal from the
atmosphere of Theo Desmond, hesitancy might have ended in
capitulation. But life-long intimacy with him, as the wife of his
closest friend, was unthinkable for a moment; and if by the wildest
possibility Paul should ever suspect the truth----!

She shuddered and glanced in his direction.

"Major Wyndham," she said softly.

He hastened back to her at once. But one look at her face sufficed.
The eagerness faded from his eyes, leaving them cold as a winter sky
after sunset.

"It was wrong of me to keep you in suspense even for a few minutes,"
she said, her gaze riveted on the table. "Please forgive me that I am
driven to hurt you so, and please believe that I do realise what I am
losing----"

"The loss is--not yours," he said on a note of restrained quietness:
and in the stillness that ensued, the impatient horses could be he