His eyes flashed up to hers in the glass, glowing with the smouldering fire, oddly fitful, oddly persistent. "Come in!" he said, without turning. "What is it?" She went forward to him. "Did you go to the Vicarage?" she asked. "Are they in great trouble?" She thought she saw relief in his face at her words. "Oh yes," he said. "Mrs. Lorimer crying as usual, Jeanie trying to comfort her. I did my best to hearten them up but you know what they are. I say, sit down!" "No, I am going," she answered gently. "Did you get on all right this afternoon?" "Oh yes," he said again. "By the way, we must get a wedding-present for Ina Rose and another for Guyes. You'll come to the wedding, Avery?" "If you wish it, dear," she said quietly. He threw down his brushes and turned fully to her. "Avery darling, I'm sorry I was bearish this afternoon. You won't punish me for it?" "Punish you, my own Piers!" she said. "Because I can't stand it," he said recklessly. "There are certain forms of torture that drive a man crazy. Bear with me--all you can!" His quick pleading touched her, went straight to her heart. She put her hands on his shoulders, lifting her face for his kiss. "It's all right, dear," she said. "Is it?" he said. "Is it?" He took her face between his hands, gazing down at her with eyes of passionate craving. "Say you love me!" he urged her suddenly. "Say it!" Her heart sank within her. She made a movement as if to withdraw herself; but he caught her fiercely to him, his hot lips sought and held her own. She felt as if a flame encompassed her, scorching her, consuming her. "Say you love me!" he whispered again between those fiery kisses. "Avery, I must have your soul as well. Do more than bear with me! Want me--want me!" There was more than passion in the words. They came to her like a cry of torment. She braced herself to meet his need, realizing it to be greater than she knew. "Piers! Piers!" she said. "I am altogether yours. I love you. Don't you know it?" He drew a deep, quivering breath. "Yes--yes, I do know it," he said. "But--but--Avery, I would go through hell for you. You are my religion, my life, my all. I am not that to you. If--if I were dragged down, you wouldn't follow me in." His intensity shocked her, but she would not have him know it. She sought to calm his agitation though she possessed no key thereto. "My dear," she said, "you are talking wildly. You don't know what you are to me, and I can't even begin to tell you. But surely--by now--you can take me on trust." He made a curious sound that was half-laugh, half-groan. "You don't know yourself, Avery," he said. "But you don't doubt my love, Piers," she protested very earnestly. "You know that it would never fail you."