"Why should we change about to-morrow?" he said. "I delight in Theodosia and I adore Alice. Her extraordinary silliness makes me feel wise in my own conceit, and conceited in my own wisdom. Is it really dressing-time? How tiresome! Don't let us dine till nine to-morrow. It is absurd dining before in the summer. One oughtn't to lose a minute of this heavenly twilight hour by doing anything in it." Catherine had walked to the open window by which his sofa was drawn up; and was observing him closely. He stretched himself with the luxuriousness of some basking animal as he spoke, and she saw he had a cigarette in each hand, both of which were burning. "Is that a new plan?" she said, "smoking two cigarettes at once?" "Yes, so far as I am concerned; but it's not original. Don't you remember the Pirate King in 'Peter Pan' smokes two--or was it three?--cigars together, because he is such an astounding swell? My God! what a play! It put the clock back thirty years. The moral is that you can't have too much of a good thing. You should lay your pleasures on thick, not thin; butter your cake on both sides, and put jam on the top. I am awfully happy to-night. It was an excellent idea of yours to come down here. How wonderful the light is! how good everything smells!" He was speaking with a sort of purr of sensuous enjoyment, though the words were clear and unblurred. She had seen him like this once before, when in the spring he had sought relief from an attack of pain with laudanum. She thought then that it was the mere cessation of it which caused that ecstasy; now she knew what it was, and her heart sank. His long, lazy stretch turned him a little on the sofa, so that he faced her as she stood by the window, with the rosy evening light flooding her face. "And, my God! how beautiful you are, Catherine!" he said. "You are made for worship and immortality. There never was a woman so wonderful as you." Catherine pulled herself together, called up her courage. Something must be done. "Thurso, let us leave my charms for a moment," she said. "Tell me, have you had any headache to-day? I hope not." "Headache! No. I've forgotten what headaches are like." "Then, why have you been taking that stuff--laudanum, opium, whatever it is? Oh, it's so dangerous!" "I--I haven't. What do you mean?" he said, stumbling over the words. She caught sight of a small medicine-glass on his washing-stand, and took it up and smelled it. "Where is the use of saying that?" she asked, holding it out to him.