glasses.

"Your health, darling," he said.

Helena drank and her cheeks caught fire.

"What's wrong?" he asked, putting his arm round her waist.

"I'm not happy," she replied.

He was conscious that the words sounded dry and artificial, but his
passion was roused and he didn't care.

"Do you know why you are unhappy?" he asked.

"No. I only know one thing, and that is that I love you."

Albert caught her in his arms and kissed her face.

"Are you my wife, or aren't you?" he whispered hoarsely.

"I am your wife," breathed Helena, collapsing, as if every nerve in
her body had snapped.

"Altogether?" he whispered paralysing her with his kisses.

"Altogether," she moaned, moving convulsively, like a sleeper
struggling with the horrors of a nightmare.

When Albert awoke, he felt refreshed, his head was clear and he was