"She may be stronger than I am, and cleverer; but she is very silly and I am not. And I’m not weak either, even if some people take me for weak." It was disturbing, though, how that phrase pricked and pricked: "Us girls." Little flames shot up from the ashes of her early and abandoned religion. "The wages of sin--the wages of sin." Was it true about the wages of sin? Was she to be punished? The great, terrible fear of conception still dominated her soul; and it grew hourly. At each disappointing dawn the torture of it increased. She saw the powders and preparations which the courtesan had given her; she recalled the minute directions for the use of them, and smiled painfully. How could the prospective mother employ such devices? Nevertheless, if she escaped, she would employ them as soon as Felix was better. She knew that Felix would delight in the perverse, provocative transformation, and she yearned to gratify him afresh in a novel manner. When the surprise came upon him he would pretend that it was nothing; but he would be delighted, he would revel in it. Putting on her peignoir she slipped noiselessly into the other bedroom, and crept up to the bed. Needless precaution; Felix was wide awake, staring at the ceiling. Before speaking she tenderly kissed him, and kept her face for a moment on his. "Better?" "Had an awful night. Couldn’t sleep a wink. I won’t get up just yet. Order me tea instead of coffee. We’ll go out after lunch, not before." "Do you think you ought to go out, dearest?" "Of course I ought to go out," he snapped peevishly. "It’s raining." "Oh, well, if it’s raining I dare say I shan’t want to go out." He placed his hand nervously on his right breast. "Does it hurt you?" "Not at all. Can’t I touch myself?" She kissed him again. Then he gazed at her with love, as she moved over him to ring the bell. "You all right?" "Oh, splendid! I listened once or twice at the door, but as I didn’t hear anything I made sure you were asleep." She kept silence about her awful, persistent fear, knowing that any reference to it would only irritate him. He was more than ever like a child--and a captious child. She realized the attitude of his sister towards him. Thank God he was better! If he had fallen ill she would have condemned herself as a criminal for life, for her insane, selfish suggestion of an excursion to the hills at night. Not he, but she, was the child. After his tea he did get up and dress; but he would not descend to lunch; nor eat in the bedroom. At three o’clock he said that when it rained on the Riviera the climate was the most damnable on earth, and that he preferred to be in bed. And to bed he returned. Then Lilian noticed him fingering his breast again. "Any pain there?" "Oh! Nothing. Nothing. Only a sort of sensation."