Still he did not raise his head. He was on his knees, and he would not
even trouble himself to rise.

"I can't help myself," he told her coolly. "It's not my fault. It's
yours."

She made a final, violent effort to wrest herself free. And then--it
was as if all power were suddenly taken from her--her strained nerves
gave way completely, and she dropped down upon the ground again in a
quivering agony of helplessness.

Nick's hand fell away from her. "You shouldn't," he said gently. "It's
no good, you know."

He returned to his former occupation while she sat with her face
hidden, in a stupor of fear, afraid to move lest he should touch her
again.

"Now," said Nick, after a brief pause, "let me have the pleasure of
seeing you break your fast. There is some of that excellent boiled
rice of yours here. You will feel better when you have had some."

She trembled at the sound of his voice. Could he make her eat also
against her will, she wondered?

"Come!" said Nick again, in a tone of soft wheedling that he might
have employed to a fractious child. "It'll do you good, you know,
Muriel. Won't you try? Just a mouthful--to please me!"

Reluctantly she uncovered her face, and looked at him. He was kneeling