She clasped her hands in appeal, as unconscious of drama as she had been that day on Whitewater Brook when Mr. Quiss threatened to swim out of her ken. * * * * * “Barry! Are you disgusted?” “Why, it seems so impossible----” “To love me?” “No!--that you--_you_ ever have been married!” “I haven’t been--entirely.... Only legally ... and partly.” He thought: “My God, there seems to be something the matter with everybody and everything.” And to Eris: “Why didn’t you ever tell me?” “It was none of your business until I fell in love with you, was it?” He caught her in his arms, roughly: “It’s my business now. Do you understand? I’ll never give you up.... Look at me, Eris!” He was hurting her; and she smiled and endured her bruises, breast and lips and limb. She said: “If you marry me I shall have to get unmarried first--somehow or other----” “Where is--this man?” “I don’t know, darling.... This was how it all occurred----” * * * * * Now, sullenly, and in silence he listened to the sordid story of the marriage of Eris. She told it without resentment--and with the candour and brevity of a child. Always it had seemed to her as though she had been merely a witness of the miserable affair and not personally concerned. And she told it in that manner. “You see, it really doesn’t count,” she concluded. “I was so ignorant that it meant nothing to me at the time. I scarcely ever think of it, now. Barry.... I _want_ you to love me.... But if you had rather not marry me----” He reddened: “What alternative do you suggest?” “Why--this!--as we are.... It leaves us both free to work----” “_That_ is your ruling passion,” he said bluntly, “--work!” “If we don’t marry, I can have you, and work, too----” “Do you think me narrow enough, selfish enough, to interfere with your career if you marry me?” She answered gravely: “I wasn’t afraid of that.... I was afraid of--children--if I marry you ... dearest.” “But if----” Then the candour of her chaste self-revelation grew clear to him--her exquisite ignorance, her virgin confidence in the heavenly inviolability of love. “Do you understand, Barry?” “I think so.” “You see,” she explained, “unmarried I can go and still have you.... But careers often end when children come.” “Don’t you ever want them, Eris?” “Well--as I’ve never had any, isn’t it natural I should prefer you and a career to you and a baby?” “I suppose it is.” “Not that I don’t care for children,” she murmured. Her grey eyes grew remote; a hint of tenderness curved her lips, and she smiled faintly to herself. “We’ll try out your idea first,” he said, “--the combination you prefer,--your work first, then me.... Our life will pass in one endless courtship.” “Could anything be lovelier!” she cried, enchanted. CHAPTER XXIV