lay passive for a few seconds, watching him. Then suddenly,
blindly, she realized what was the object of his search. She made
a quick, instinctive movement to frustrate him.

His hand tightened instantly upon hers; he pointed to a tiny mark
upon the inside of her arm. "How did you get that?" he said.

His eyes looked straight into hers. There was something pitiless,
something almost brutal, in their regard. In spite of herself she
flinched, and lowered her own.

"Answer me!" he said.

She felt the hot colour rush in a guilty flood over her face. "It
was only--for once," she faltered. "I wanted sleep, and I couldn't
get it."

"Kieff gave it you," he said, his tone grimly insistent.

She nodded. "Yes. He meant well. He saw I was fagged out."

Burke was silent for a space, still grasping her hand. Her head
was throbbing dizzily, but she would not lower it to the pillow
again in his presence. She felt almost like a prisoner awaiting
sentence.

"Did he give it you against your will?" he asked at length.

"Not altogether." Her voice was almost a whisper. Her heart was
beating with hard, uneven strokes. She felt sick and faint.

Burke moved suddenly, releasing her hand. He rose with that
decision characteristic of him and walked across the room. She
heard the splash of water in a basin, and then he came back to her.
As if she had been a child, he raised her to lean against him, and
proceeded very quietly to bathe her face and head with ice-cold
water.

She shrank at the chill of it, but he persisted in his task, and
very soon she began to feel refreshed.

"Thank you," she murmured at last. "I am better now. I will get
up."

"You had better lie still for the present," he said. "I will send
you in some supper later."

His tone was repressive. She could not look him in the face. But,
as he made as if he would rise, something impelled her to lay a
detaining hand upon his arm.

"Please wait a minute!" she said,

He waited, and in a moment, with difficulty, she went on.

"Burke, I have done wrong, I know. I am sorry. Please don't be
angry with me! I--can't bear it."

There was a catch in her voice that she could not restrain. She
had a great longing to hide her face on his shoulder and burst into
tears. But something--some inner, urgent warning--held her back.

Burke sat quite still. There was a touch of rigidity in his
attitude. "All right," he said at last. "I am not angry--w