“What is it?” She raised her head and looked up at him. “We shall be very poor, as I told you, and sha’n’t be able to have a nice house, or many pretty things. But I’m going to take you to live in Paris----” “Paris!” He had scarcely uttered the word when she repeated it like a shout of triumph, and springing up from the floor, snatched a lace-bordered and embroidered sheet which was lying on a little white porcelain stove in one corner of the room, and wrapping it round her with one dexterous sweeping movement, slipped off her bathing-dress like a loose skin from underneath it, and flinging herself on to the sofa beside her husband, put a transformed and glowing face up to his, as she whispered in a tone of rapture: “Then I don’t mind anything--anything, for I shall see mamma!” With an uncontrollable impulse George drew himself away from her and started to his feet. He felt sick, and a film gathered before his eyes, preventing him from finding the handle of the door, which he sought with cold, clammy fingers. “George!” said a low voice behind him. He scarcely heard, scarcely recognised it, and made no answer. “George!” A little hand found its way to his throat, and was laid against his neck. His arms fell down listlessly, and as he stood still and felt that he was touched by clinging fingers, and heard Nouna’s voice in its most caressing tones, his sight came again; he looked down and put his hands on his wife’s shoulder. “Why are you going away, George? Why are you going away?” “I don’t feel well, dearest.” “Well, sit by me, and I will take your head in my lap and nurse you.” She led him gently back to the sofa. But presently, when she had curled herself up in a corner of it, and making him lie full length had pillowed his head upon her breast, and administered kisses and _eau de Cologne_ alternately with great lavishness, she peered into his face with a new inspiration, and said mysteriously: “You are not ill--you are unhappy.” He protested he was only grieving at the change in their fortunes for her sake. Nouna laughed gently. “I was silly,” she said, “and wicked. In the first moments of surprise one does not know what one says. I don’t mind at all. I would rather be poor in Paris than rich in London.” He shivered, though Nouna, with some tact, believing he was jealous, had not mentioned her mother again. But she examined his face attentively, and saw that the drawn, hopeless look remained. After a few moments she slipped her shoulder away very tenderly from beneath his head, which she transferred to a cushion; and George heard the door softly shut after her as she went out. He called to her, but she took no notice, and he supposed she had gone to dress. But in a few minutes the ghost-like figure glided in again, looking just the same, and came to where he was now sitting upright on the sofa.