olding from them
their prey. For now, in this crisis of action, doubts assailed her. She
remembered that she had never read the book, though she had heard much
of it from Berrand. He was imaginative and essentially mischievous.
Perhaps he had exaggerated its tendency, drawn too lurid a picture of
its horrible power. Catherine turned a page or two and glanced at the
clear, even writing. It fascinated her eyes.

At eight the footman opened the door, announcing dinner.

Catherine started as if from a dream. Her face was white and her eyes
were ablaze with excitement. She put the manuscript back in the drawer,
went into the dining-room and made a pretence of dining. But very soon
she was back again in the study. She sat down under a lamp by the fire
and went on reading the book. She knew that Mark would not be home till
midnight; there was plenty of time. She turned the leaves one by one,
and presently she forgot the passing of time, she forgot everything in
the evil fascination of the book. She was enthralled. She was
horror-stricken. But she could not cease from reading. Only when she had
finished she meant to burn the book. No one else should ever come under
its spell. She never heard the clock striking the hours. She never heard
the sound of carriage wheels on the gravel of the drive. She never heard
a step in the hall, the opening of the study door. Only when Mark stood
before her with an exclamation of keen surprise did she start up. The
manuscript dropped from her hands on to the hearth. The drawer in the
writing table, broken open, gaped wide.

"Catherine," Mark said, and he bent hastily and picked up the book.
"Catherine, what is the meaning of this? You have--you have----"

He stopped, struck dumb by flooding astonishment. She stared up at him
without a word and with a dazed expression in her eyes. He looked
towards the drawer.

"You have dared to break open my writing table!"

"Yes," she said, finding a voice. "I have dared."

"And to read--to read----"

She nodded. Mark seemed utterly confused by surprise. He looked almost
sheepish, as men do in blank amazement. She got up and stood before him
and laid her hands on his, which held the book.

"You see that fire?" she said in a low voice.

He looked at it, as if he had not noticed it before.

"What's it for?" he said, also in a low voice.

"Don't you know?"

They looked into each other's eyes for a moment.

"To--to--you intended to burn----"

Sh