She stretched out her hand, and slipping it under his head, brought it back to her; when he lifted his eyes, hers were smiling through her tears, compassionate and tender. "I went to pieces," he said slowly. "Never mind! Now I know how much you need me--what I can mean!" "I remember nothing. Good God! where have I been?" he said bitterly, and in his eyes was the black fog of impenetrable days and nights. "It was my fault, too; I made the mistake, Garry!" she said hastily. "All that is over, though. Now we'll make the fight together!" He watched her mutely, his eyes seeming to widen and deepen with the intensity of his gaze. "Don't go away--just now--to-day...." "I won't!" "And wear--" He raised his hand and ran it caressingly over the golden velvet. "It's your color!" She nodded, smiling down on him, her soothing fingers running lightly over his hot forehead. "Lord! Such a defeat!" he said presently, shaking his head. "Hush!" "What can you think of me?" She looked down at his great frame, at the bared muscles of the arm that lay at her side, the corded brown neck, rough cut of chin, the powerful features, now so weak and so appealing. The despondency she saw in that great strength and stricken energy brought her all the closer to him, with an impulse to join all her strength to his, to take away the sting and the mortification, to raise him with confidence and hope. The clock on the mantel began to send out its twelve tiny warning notes. She did not remember. She was looking in his eyes, smiling, bending over him, claiming him by every gentle right; and the breath that came deeply from her moving breast descended to him, bearing all her strength, all her will, all herself. CHAPTER XXIV At four o'clock, Garry once more asleep to the sound of her calming voice, she ran out for a brief visit to Miss Pim's. In front of the door was an automobile that she recognized--in the heavy mediocrity of the parlor, Albert Edward Sassoon. He came languidly to meet her (since her first reproof he had given up his pasha pose), unruffled and docile, assuming the rôle of good fellowship, despite the fretting of the spirit he had endured. "Oh, is that you?" she remarked nonchalantly, and gave him a limp hand, arranging her toque in the mirror while listening to his Christmas greetings. "The humblest and the most patient of your admirers, pretty tyrant!" he said, his tired eyes scanning her with mock humility. "You are lucky to find me; waiting long?" As she continued standing, without a move to be seated, he drew from his pocket two jewel-cases, and said, as he moved toward the sofa: "I am going to let you choose, Miss Dodo, so that you may be sure"--he paused, and added with slow silky emphasis--"to get just what you want!"