she entreated.
Again he looked down into her eyes.
"For my sake," she repeated softly.
"By God, I'll never touch another drop!" he said.
"Oh, you make me so happy!" she exclaimed.
He crushed her in his arms until his muscles were tense. She did not
struggle for release, but abandoned herself without a word to the
emotion of the moment. Her head thrown back, her cheeks pale, her full
lips smiling, she gazed up into his face with eyes burning with sudden
fire.
"How I love you!" he whispered.
She slipped her arms about his neck with a little cry of ecstasy.
"Oh, Marsh, I have been foolish, too, but this is the place for me--my
place--against your very heart!" she said softly.
For a long minute Langham held her so, and then tortured by sudden
memory he came back sharply to the actualities. His arms dropped from
about her.
"What is it, dear?" she asked.
She was not yet ready to pass from the passion of that moment.
"It's too late--" he muttered brokenly.
"No, dear, it's not too late, we have only been a little foolish. Of
course we can go back; of course we can begin all over, and we know now
what to avoid; that was it, we didn't know before, we were ignorant of
ourselves--of each other. Why, don't you see, we are only just beginning
to live, dear--you must have faith!" and again her arms encircled him.
"But you don't know--" he stammered.
"Don't know what, dear?"
He dropped into his chair, and she sank on her knees at his side. A
horrible black abyss into which he was falling, seemed to open at his
feet. Her hands were the only ones that could draw him back and save
him.
"Don't know what?" she repeated.
The mystery of his man's nature, with its mingled strength and weakness,
was something she could not resist.
"Does it ever do any good to pray, I wonder?" he gasped.
"I wonder, too!" she echoed breathlessly.
He laughed.
"What rot I'm talking!" he said.
"What is it that is wrong, Marsh?"
"Nothing--nothing--I can't tell you--"
"Yo