His heart was so torn with gladness that for a long time he could not move, he could not speak. And then he walked across the room and stood above her chair. She turned up her little face under the tiger-tawny hair and smiled her funny crooked smile like a naughty fairy’s. “Poor Aubrey!” she whispered. “Poor Gloria!...” But he did not touch her. “Listen, Gloria,” he whispered. “When I found you had gone, my life cracked like an earthenware cup....” And Aubrey Carlyle stopped, amazed by what he had said; for he had never said a thing like that before. “And now,” he said, “you have mended it again.” “Have I?” she cried queerly; and the weight of her eyes on him bore him to his knees by her chair. He had not seen her for eight months, but still he did not touch her. “And _my_ life, Aubrey?” “But your life is mine, Gloria! We are together!” And Gloria, the soft, lovely Gloria smiled into his absorbed face.... “Of course,” she said. “Of course! An Englishman and his wife....” But he was not listening. “And did you know why, Aubrey?” she asked. He shook his head. He had not seen her for eight months. “I just thought you had gone mad, Gloria. Tell me, are you mad?” “No, dear; I am very sane. And very tired.” And she said that in a voice which seemed to come from the depths of a very deep bowl, the softest voice that a man ever heard, and it broke the poise of his restraint. He had not seen her for eight months. He was very strong, and a lawless man. He carried her away into the depths of the room. She said nothing. IV And then, again, they were by the open windows. But a cloud with a satin fringe hid the moon, and it was so dark that the shine of her eyes was all he could see of her face. And Gloria was so tall that her eyes were almost level with his. “And so you didn’t know why, in my letter?” she asked miserably. He humoured her.... “Well, why?” “You hunt wild beasts, don’t you, Aubrey?” “And I bring the skins for you to walk on, Gloria.” “And when you come back from your hunting, you ravage me like a wild beast----” He cried out sharply in amazement, but she went on, like a sibyl: “And then you go away again. And then again you come back, to ravage me----” “Gloria, you are mad!”