me."

He nodded, looked at her to show her that he had begun to take her
seriously, and turned away with Jerry, rather astonished to find himself
dismissed so coolly from the scene. She turned to Louis, forgetting
Kraill. Jerry, who adored Marcella, became very voluble on the subject
of Louis; Kraill listened mechanically to all he was saying as they
crossed the paddock.

It was one of Louis's bad nights; he had been drinking both whisky and
squareface. A letter from his mother, saying how she was longing to see
her grandson, had roused him to great deeds. His fall after such
resolutions was always the more bitter; always it needed more than usual
justification; always Marcella was the scapegoat. She had forgotten
Kraill in the intensity of her misery until, worn out by his ravings,
Louis fell asleep. She knew, then, that he was safe for the rest of the
night and she crept out silently into the cool cleanness of the garden,
closing the door softly. Only his loud, stertorous breathing came to her
with mutterings and groans. The moon had risen and little mist-wreaths
walked in and out among the wonga-vines on the fence: Marcella's golden
flowers with which she had planted the clearing all round the
house--nasturtiums, sunflowers, marigolds and eczcoltzias--shone silvery
and ethereal. The smoke from the dying fires rose in thin white needles,
plumed at the top: out in the Bush a dingo barked shrilly and some small
beast yelped in pain. Andrew stirred and she tucked the clothes round
him, kissing his brown, round arm and fingers, wishing he were awake so
that he could be crushed in her arms and let her bury her aching head on
his wriggling little body for an instant--he was never still for longer.

She sat down on the edge of the verandah, her arm round the post; her
eyes were aching; she felt too tired and helpless to go on living and
yet the relief of having got Louis to sleep was really very great. She
was trying to decide to write to Dr. Angus, asking him to give her some
sort of sleeping draught she could give Louis when he had one of his bad
times; she had forgotten that, in a week's time, all the money would be
spent again and they would be happy for another period: but to-night's
misery, more and more each time, was beginning to shut out pictures of a
peaceful to-morrow, a vindication of faith.

A faint sound behind her made her start in horror, afraid lest he had
wakened. But it was Kraill who was standing quite