He stopped.  He was looking at her, looking at her, with the red fire of passion kindling in his eyes, a gleam so fierce and so insistent that she was forced to lower her own.  It was as if his soul cried out to her all that he restrained his lips from uttering.

He saw her instinctive avoidance of his gaze, and turned away from her, leaning again upon the mantelpiece as if spent.

“I can’t help it, Avery.  I’m so dog-tired, and I can’t sleep.  I’m horribly sorry, but I’m nothing but a brute-beast to-night.  Really—­really—­you had better go.”

There was desperation in his voice.  He bowed his head upon his arms, and she saw that his hands were clenched.

But she could not leave him so.  That inner urging that had impelled her thither warned her to remain, even against her own judgment, even against her will.  The memory of Victor’s fears came back to her.  She could not turn and go.

“My dear boy,” she said, speaking very gently, “do you think I don’t know that you are miserable, lonely, wretched?  That is why I am here!”

“God knows how lonely!” he whispered.

Her heart stirred within her at the desolation of the words.  “Nearly all of us go through it some time,” she said gently.  “And if there isn’t a friend to stand by, it’s very hard to bear.  That is the part I want to play—­if you will let me.  Won’t you treat me as a friend?”

But Piers neither moved nor spoke.  With his head still upon his arms he stood silent.

She drew nearer to him.  “Piers, I think I understand.  I think you are a little afraid of going too far, of—­of—­” her voice faltered a little in spite of her—­“of hurting my feelings.  Is that it?  Because,—­my dear,—­you needn’t be afraid any longer.  If you really think I can make you happy, I am willing—­quite willing—­to try.”

The words were spoken, and with them she offered all she had, freely, generously, with a quick love that was greater possibly than even she realized.

She was standing close to him waiting for him to turn and clasp her in his arms, as he had so nearly clasped her once against her will.  But seconds passed and he did not move, and a cold foreboding began to knock at her heart lest after all—­lest after all—­his love for her had waned.

He stirred at last, just as she was on the point of turning from him, stretched out a groping hand that found and drew her to his side.  But still he did not look at her or so much as raise his head.

He spoke after a moment in a choked voice that seemed to be wrung from him by sheer physical torture.  “Avery, don’t—­don’t tempt me.  I—­daren’t!”

The anguish of the words went through her, banishing all thought of anything else.  Very suddenly she knew that he was fighting a desperate battle for her sake, that he was striving with all the strength that was in him to set her happiness before his own.  And something that was greater than pity entered into her with the knowledge, something so great as to be all-possessing, compelling her to instant action.