"Alwynne? I don't think--I know. All her gifts are so much surface show; she's a very simple child underneath. Content? Can't you see her, Roger--with children? Her own babies?" Roger beamed. "It's rather a jolly prospect. Well, I must take my chance." "Of course, you must wait; it's too soon yet. Even later, if Clare really wants her--wants her enough to suppress her own perverse impulses--I'm afraid you've little chance. But it's possible that she will not want her as much as that." "I don't follow." "I mean that Clare, with that impish nature of hers, may hurt Alwynne." "I should think she has already, often enough." "Yes--but Alwynne has never realised it, never realised that it was deliberate. She is always so sure that it was her fault somehow. If once she found out that Clare was hurting her for--for the fun of it, you know--for the pleasure of watching her suffer--as I'm sure she does--it might end everything. Alwynne hates cruelty. That poor child's death shook her. A little more, and she will be disillusioned." "But loyal still?" "Probably. But the glamour would be gone. She would be extremely unhappy. There your chance would come. Though I don't think Clare will give it you--for I believe Alwynne does mean more to her than most things. But she's an unaccountable person: there is the chance." "I see," Roger rose and straightened himself. "Practically I'm not to depend on my own--attractions--at all." He laughed a little. "I am to watch the whims of this--this unpleasant school-marm, and be grateful to her for forcing Alwynne to prefer my deep sea to her devil. The situation is hardly dignified." Elsbeth laughed too. "Love is always undignified, Roger. What does it matter if you want her?" But she watched him anxiously as he walked to the window, and stood staring out. There was a silence. At last he turned-- "Elsbeth, dear, it's a beautiful scheme, and a woman could carry it through, I daresay--but it's no good to me. It's too--too tortuous, too feminine. I don't mean anything rude. It's merely that I'm not--subtle enough, or patient. At least, I haven't got that cat-and-mouse kind of patience. I can wait, you know. That's different. I can wait all right. But I can't intrigue." Elsbeth flushed. "There is no intrigue. It's a question of understanding Alwynne and of using the opportunity when it comes." "To trick and surprise and over-persuade her into caring for me! It's no good, Elsbeth. It isn't possession I want--it's Alwynne. Can't you see? We should neither of us be happy. She would always distrust me and remember that I'd taken an advantage. I should end by hating her, I believe. Can't you see?" Elsbeth was shaken by her own thoughts. "I see," she said finally. "And I see that you don't love her--or you'd take her on any terms." "Would you?" "Yes."