He saw the strain growing and growing until, in the end, on the brink of the abyss, he had snatched at the relief which Elizabeth offered, as a man who dies of thirst will snatch at water. Well—he had taken Elizabeth’s draught of water, his thirst was quenched, he was his own man again. No, never his own man any more. Never free any more—Elizabeth’s debtor—Elizabeth’s husband. David set his face like a flint—he would pay his debt. He went out as soon as he had breakfasted and walked for a couple of hours. It was a little after noon when he came into the drawing-room where Elizabeth was. The floor was covered with a great many yards of green stuff which she was cutting into curtain lengths. As David came in, she looked up and smiled. “Oh, _please_,” she said, “if you wouldn’t mind, I shall cut them so much better if you hold one end.” David knelt down and held the stuff, whilst Elizabeth cut it. She came quite close to him at the end, smiled again, and took away the two pieces which he still clutched helplessly. “That’s beautiful,” she said, and sat down and began to sew. David watched her in silence. If she found his gaze embarrassing, she showed no sign. “We can start to-morrow,” he said at last. He gave a list of trains, stopping-places, and hotels, paused at the end of it, walked to the window, and then, turning, said with an effort: “This has been a bad beginning for you, my dear—you’ve been very good to me. You deserve a better bargain, but I’ll do my best.” Elizabeth did not speak at once. David thought that she was not going to speak at all, but after what seemed like a long time she said: “David!” and then stopped. There was a good deal of colour in her cheeks. David saw that she, too, was making an effort. “Well,” he said, and his voice was more natural. “David,” said Elizabeth, “what did you mean by ‘doing your best’?” David met her eyes. He had always liked Elizabeth’s eyes. They were so very clear. “I meant that I’d do my best to make you a good husband,” he said quite simply. Elizabeth’s colour rose higher still. She continued to look at David, because she would have considered it cowardly to look away. “A good husband to my good wife,” she said. “But, David, I don’t think you want a wife just now.” David came across the room and sat down by the table at which Elizabeth was working. “Then why did you marry me, Elizabeth?” he asked. Elizabeth did not turn her head at once.