She looked at him curiously, then, with her engaging and fearless smile: "_Quantum suff_," she said. "You know you oughtn't to care _too_ much for me, Clive."

"How much is too much?"

"You know," she said, watching his face, the smile still lingering on her lips.

"No, I don't. Tell me."

"I'll inform you when it's necessary."

"It's necessary now."

"No, it isn't."

"I'm afraid it is."

There was a silence. She lay watching him for a moment longer while the smile in her eyes slowly died out. Then, all in a moment, a swift change altered her expression; and she sat up on the couch, supporting herself on both hands.

"What is happening to you, Clive!" she said almost breathlessly.

"Nothing new."

"What do you mean?"

"Shall I tell you?"

"Of course."

"Then,"--but he could not say it. He had no business to, and he knew it. It was the one thing he could refrain from saying, for her sake; the one service he could now render her.

He sat staring into s.p.a.ce, the iron grimness of self-control locking every fetter that he wore--must always wear now.

She waited, her eyes intent on his face, her colour high, heart rapid.

"What had you to say to me?" she asked, breaking the silence.

He forced a laugh: "Nothing--except that sometimes being with you again makes me--very contented--"

"Is that what you had to say?"

"Yes. I told you it was nothing new."

She lowered her gaze and remained silent for a moment, apparently considering what he had said. Then the uplifted candour of her eyes questioned him again:

"You don't imagine yourself in love with me again, do you, Clive?"

"No."

"Nothing like that could happen to you again, could it?... Because it has not yet happened to me. It couldn't.... And it would be too--too ghastly if you--if anything--"

"Don't talk about it that way!" he said sharply. "If it _did_ happen--what of it?"... He forced a smile. "But it won't happen....

Things like that don't happen to people like you and me. We care too much for each other, don't we, Athalie?"

"Yes.... It would be terrible.... I don't know why I put such ideas into your head--or into my own. But you--there was something in your expression.... Oh, Clive, dear, it _couldn't_ happen to you, could it?"

She leaned forward impulsively and put both hands on his shoulders, gazing into his eyes, searching them fearfully for any trace of what she thought for a moment she had seen in them.

He said gaily enough: "No fear, dear. I'm exactly what I always have been. I'll always be what you want me to be, Athalie."

"I know.... But if ever--"

"No, no! Nothing can ever happen to worry you--"

"But if--"

"Nothing shall happen!"

"I know. But if ever it does--"

"It won't."

"Oh, Clive, listen! If it _does_ happen to you, what will you do?"

"Do?"

"Yes.... If it does happen, what will you do, Clive?"

"But--"

"Answer me!"

"I--"

"Please answer me. What will you do about it?"

"Nothing," he said, flushing.

"Why not?"

"Why not? What is there--what would there be to do? What could I have to say to you if--"

"You could say that you loved me--if you did."

"To what purpose?" he demanded, red and astonished.

"To whatever purpose you followed.... Why shouldn't you tell me? If it ever happened that you fell in love with me again I had rather you told me than that you kept silent. I had rather know it than have it happen and never know it. Is there anything wrong in a man if he happens to fall in love with a girl?"

"He can remain silent, anyway."