She held out the cup. "Some water, please." She reeled, clutched at the wall, and for an instant everything spun round. He placed her in the porter's folding chair, and when he held the cup to her mouth saw that her teeth chattered. She drank spasmodically, and a long, shuddering sigh drifted across her white lips. "You must lie down and rest. The porter will arrange your berth." She shook her head and rose. "You cannot walk alone; lean on me." "Yes, I can help myself now. I was thirsty and dizzy." She drew back, but he put his arm around her, holding her firmly against him, and placed her on the seat in the drawing-room. She pointed to the carnations. "The perfume is overpowering. I can't reach them. Please take them out." Lifting an arm he snapped the string. "Like every other souvenir and symbol of to-night, they are simply sickening." Raising the window he threw the flowers into a river across which the locomotive was cautiously feeling its way. He opened his own satchel, leaning against hers on the opposite seat, took out a silver flask, and poured some ruby, aromatic liquid into the cup. "You are sadly spent; take this." "No, I do not need anything more." "You must. It is merely a mild cocktail." "No, Mr. Herriott, I prefer not." "A few hours ago did you swear to obey me? Drink it." She hid her face in her hands and shivered. "Eglah, try to control yourself." "Please don't take any trouble on my account; just leave me alone with my torturing forebodings. No one but God can help me now. The sight of me is painful to you, and I shrink from annoying you. Mr. Herriott, please leave me to myself." He sat down beside her, the cup in his hand. "To-night you have made me suffer more than you will ever understand--you have hurt me beyond all possibility of healing--and, perhaps, in the terribly sudden overthrow of beautiful hopes you had called into existence, I may have seemed harsh. If so, you must pardon any desperate words my torture wrung from me. Poor child, you have sorrows enough without any additions from my hand. I cannot trust myself to talk to you; my temper is sometimes beyond control, and you have bruised my heart so sorely I am not sure of self-command. Poor little girl! Do me the favor to drink this, because I ask it." He held the cup to her lips and she drank. He took a pillow from the opposite seat and put it behind her head. "If you need anything you have only to open the door and I shall come." "Mr. Herriott, there is but one thing I shall ever ask you to do for me. The ring you placed on my finger I took off at your request. Here it is. With your own hand put it back where it belongs, and it will be there when I die." She held out her hand with the ring in her palm. He looked at her intently, and his lips tightened. "Repeat a mockery? A shameful farce!"