been rotten. He was silent, and again his heavy tread resounded in the
room as he dragged himself back and forth.

The force in him was stirring her. Sensation of any sort had always made
its strong appeal to her. Without knowing what was passing in his mind
she yet understood that it was some powerful emotion, and her pliant
nerves responded. For the moment she forgot that she no longer loved
him. She rose and went to his side.

"Is it all my fault, Marsh?" she said.

"What is your fault?" he asked, pausing.

"That we are so unhappy; am I the only one at fault there?"

He looked down into her face relentingly.

"I don't know--I swear I don't know!" he said hoarsely.

"What is it, Marsh--why are you so unhappy? Just because you love me?
What an unkind thing to say!"

He turned to the table to pour himself a drink, but she caught his hand.

"For my sake, Marsh!" she entreated.

Again he looked down into her eyes.

"For my sake," she repeated softly.