"I never thought you would be angry. But I dreamt about you angry. Oh"--she spoke now only to herself--"he doesn't understand. If I hadn't loved him truly, I needn't have kept my word, but I had to be honest, or I wouldn't have been worthy." She dropped her face against the bed and mumbled there. "Nothing matters, then. Not even being honest. I--I--Oh! Angry--Zebedee darling, I can't bear it. Tell me you won't be angry any more." "Dearest--" He sat on the bed and pulled her wet face to his knee. "Dearest--" She took his hands and pressed them against her eyes. "Forgive me, Zebedee." "I can't forgive you. I can only love you. For ever and ever--I want to think, Helen." "You're shaking so." "And you are shivering. Come downstairs beside a fire." "No; we are safer here." Her arms went round him, beneath his coat, and she leaned her head against his breast. "I wish we could go to sleep and never wake." "I ought never to have left you." She looked up. "Zebedee, he hasn't worried me. He kissed me once. That's all. That's why I made you kiss my mouth." "He shall never worry you. I'm going to see him now, and I shall come back soon. Let me go, sweetheart." "No, I can't let you go. It isn't that I'm afraid for you. I--I don't mind if you hurt each other, but if you killed him--if he killed you--! But you won't do that. You'll just say dreadful things, and then he'll come to me and take me all. Don't you see? He could. He would. In my own way, I can--I can keep him off, but if you went to him and claimed me--No, Zebedee, there would be no hope for me." "I'll shoot him, if you like, without giving him a chance. The man ought to be shot. He takes advantage of his own beastliness--" He broke off. "If I talk about it I shall choke." "But he doesn't know about you." "You didn't tell him that?" "I couldn't. I couldn't beg. I didn't want to say your name to him, to bring you into it." "Yes, I was left out of your calculations pretty thoroughly." "Zebedee--!" "Ah, but you expect me to take this very calmly. You keep your promise to a drunken brute, but what of one to me?" "There wasn't one between us two. We just belonged, as we do now and always shall. You're me and I am you. When I was thinking of myself, I was thinking of you, too. And all the time I thought you'd understand." "I do--begin to understand. But what about Miriam? Little fool, little fool! Does she know what she's done?" "No one knows but you. You see, she fainted. I always thought she'd come between us, but what queer things God does!" His voice rose suddenly, saying, "Helen, it's unbearable. But you shall not stay here. I shall take you away." "There's Notya." "Yes." "Do you mean--Is she going to die?" "I don't know. She may not live for long. And if she dies, you shall come away with me. We can go together anywhere in the world. There's no morality and no sense and no justice in such a sacrifice." "Oh," she sighed, "what peace, if I could go with you!"