more or less, but we don't put it on paper to be used in
evidence against us. We think fine things and do smudged ones, and so
the world goes on."

There was a long silence. She crept a little closer to him and put her
hand into his. He held it tight. It was almost as if her world were
shaking about her and even his unsteady hand seemed some support.

At last she said, as if talking to herself.

"Louis--can't something be done for us all? Can't we have these things
cut out of us like cancers? Can't we get rid of these horrible desires
as we've lost tails and hair and things we don't need? Then in time
people would be born without them. Louis--you don't think--think of me
like that, do you--as a--a hunger? As something you must have if you
don't have whisky, or as something that will drive you to whisky if I go
away as Violet did?"

"I'm--I'm afraid I do, old girl," he said. "It's natural--I say,
Marcella--you're only a kid. I don't believe you quite realize what
you've taken on--in that way."

She looked startled. Then she laughed gaily.

"I'm not afraid of my part of it, Louis," she said, "but I can't help
thinking that if I'm to be--as you put it--a sort of hunger substituted
for whisky, we're all wrong. Suppose I died, for instance?"

"Marcella, if you die I shall die too. Anything else is unthinkable. I
can't face life without you, now. I can't be a pariah again. You're a
hunger to me. I'll admit it. But you're more. You're a saviour. And--you
don't know anything about it, dearie. But when we're married you will,
and I suppose I'll be just the same sort of hunger to you, then. It's no
use blinking your eyes to it. And--be damned glad I love you, and am not
like some sort of men. Otherwise--well, Lord knows what would have
happened to you. You're so honest that you think everyone else is. And
yet, transparent little fool that you are, in common-sense things, I
know that you're going to keep me straight."

Back came trooping all the visions of Deliverance, a rich pageantry
shutting away the footmarks of the beast she had just glimpsed.

As every beat of the engines brought them nearer and nearer to Sydney
consideration of ways and means became even more anxious. Louis spent
glowering days. Marcella was quite certain that everything would turn
out well.

It was in the dull run between Colombo and Fremantle that they decided
upon a plan of action. The nights were getting colder now; they had to
sit in thick