This new phase stunned him. What did it mean? He touched her hand.
It was hot, and withdrew from his. He put his arm around her, and she
shivered, cringed. But then she was a woman, he thought. He had met
one unlike any he had ever known. He would wait. He would be patient.
Would she come--home? She turned passively and took his arm. He talked,
but he knew he was talking poorly, and at last he became silent also.
But when they came to the steep steps leading to the chateau, he lifted
her in his arms, carried her to the house, and left her at their chamber-
door.

Then he went to the pavilion to smoke. He had no wish to think--
at least of anything but the girl. It was not a time for retrospect,
but to accept a situation. The die had been cast. He had followed what
--his nature, his instincts? The consequence?

He heard Andree's voice. He went to her.

The next morning they were in the garden walking about. They had been
speaking, but now both were silent. At last he turned again to her.

"Andree, who was the other man?" he asked quietly, but with a strange
troubled look in his eyes.

She shrank away confused, a kind of sickness in her eyes.

"What does it matter?" she said.

"Of course, of course," he returned in a low, nerveless tone.

They were silent for a long time. Meanwhile, she seemed to beat up