The colonel made himself perfectly at home. He grumbled, turned up the lights, and tossed his overcoat into a corner. Then he lit a cigarette and threw himself down on the sofa, whence he watched with the eye of a connoisseur her movements as she reluctantly took off her coat and drew the pins out of her hat. There was a knock, and a waiter came in with cold refreshments and a silver-necked bottle on a tray. "More champagne?" questioned Lilly in alarm. She had not yet recovered from the amount that she had imbibed at midday. "Nothing like champagne," he said, "to give a little woman courage to consecrate the pretty blue silk _neglige_ waiting in her box to be unpacked." He poured out the foaming liquid into the two glasses. She clinked glasses with him obediently, but scarcely touched a drop of her wine. When he rallied her on her abstinence, she answered pleadingly, "I don't want to be tipsy on such a sacred night as this!" Her reply seemed to entertain him immensely. He burst into hilarious laughter, and exclaimed: "All the better! All the better!" He would have drawn her to him, but, as every touch of his caused her acute discomfort, she evaded him quickly and said, "I must look for my _neglige_." She knelt before the box, which she herself had packed the night before, lifting out the trays, and produced from the depth a garment of filmy lace and washing silk, which he, with all the other beautiful clothes, had bought for her before the wedding. She looked round in search of a sheltering alcove into which she could retire to change, but there was none no escape from those eyes, almost softened by their desire for her, watching everything she did. Shuddering, she stood there, clinging helplessly to the collar of her dress, which she hadn't the courage to unhook. He grew impatient and sprang to his feet. He nearly caught her in his arms, but the imploring look she gave him was so full of pathos that he chivalrously desisted, and stooped instead to pick up something which, in her search for the _neglige_, she had turned out of the box on to the floor. The next minute Lilly saw a white roll between his dark fingers. "It's 'The Song of Songs,'" shot through her brain. With a cry she hurled herself upon him, and tried to snatch the roll of music from his grasp, but his fingers were like iron. He defended himself and repulsed her attack with ease, laughing all the time. She was beside herself at the thought that her life's secret should be tampered with by strange hands, and she cried, implored, and beat him with her fists. Now the matter began to appear to him in a suspicious light. Doubts began to rise within him as to the unblemished purity of her soul, and even of her body. "Be careful, my little girl," he said. "Prevarication and deceit are out of the question now. You will kindly let me see what this is without delay, or I'll pin you down so that you can't stir a limb."