'supposing--of course, I know you are getting better and all
that--but supposing you don't change back as Mr Bethany thinks,
what will you do? Honestly, Arthur, when I think over it calmly,
the whole tragedy comes back on me with such a force it sweeps me
off my feet; I am for the moment scarcely my own mistress. What
would you do?'

'I think, Sheila,' replied a low, infinitely weary voice, 'I
think I should marry again.' It was the same wavering, faintly
ironical voice that had slightly discomposed Dr Simon that same
morning.

'"Marry again"!' exclaimed incredulously the full lips in the
looking-glass. 'Who?'

'YOU, dear!'

Sheila turned softly round, conscious in a most humiliating
manner that she had ever so little flushed.

Her husband was pouring out his tea, unaware, apparently, of her
change of position. She watched him curiously. In spite of all
her reason, of her absolute certainty, she wondered even again
for a moment if this really could be Arthur. And for the first
time she realised the power and mastery of that eager and far too
hungry face. Her mind seemed to pause, fluttering in air, like a
bird in the wind. She hastened rather unsteadily to the door.

'Will you want anything more, do you think, for an hour?' she
asked.