All Vera’s arrogance had vanished in her husband’s presence, just as his curt imperiousness had given place to the winning dominance which he knew so well how to wield.  “You’ll do it for me,” was one of his pet phrases, and he seldom uttered it in vain.  She gave him the joyful sacrifice of love newly-awakened.

“I wonder if we shall go on like this when I’m well again,” she said to him on an evening of rose-coloured dusk in early August when he was sitting by her side with her long thin hand in his.

“Like what?” said Edward Fielding.

She smiled at him from her pillow.  “Well, spoiling each other in this way.  Will you never be overbearing and dictatorial?  Shall I never be furious and hateful to you again?”

“I hope not,” he said.  “In fact, I think not.”

He spoke very gravely.  She stirred, and in a moment her other hand came out to him also.  He clasped it closely.  Her eyes were shining softly in the dusk.

“You are—­so good to me, Edward—­my darling,” she said.

His head was bent over her hands.  “Don’t!” he muttered huskily.

Her fingers closed on his.  “Edward, will you tell me something?” she whispered.

“I don’t know,” he said.

“Yes, but I want you to.  I’d rather hear it from you.  The doctors don’t think I shall ever be fit for much again, do they?”

She spoke steadily, with a certain insistence.  He looked up at her sharply, with something of a glare in his eyes.

“You’re not going to die—­whatever they say!” he declared in a fierce undertone.

“No—­no, of course not!” She spoke soothingly, still smiling at him, for that barely checked ferocity of his sent rapture through her soul.  “Do you suppose I’d be such an idiot as to go and die just when I’m beginning to enjoy life?  I’m not the puny heroine of a lachrymose novel.  I hope I’ve got more sense.  No, dear, what I really meant was—­was—­am I ever going to be strong enough—­woman enough—­to give you—­what you want so much?”

“Vera—­my dear!” He leaned swiftly to her, his arm pillowed her head.  “Do you suppose—­do you really suppose—­I’d let you jeopardize your sweet life—­after this—­after this?”

He was holding her closely to him, and though a little spasm of breathlessness went through her she gave herself to him with a pulsing gladness that thrilled her whole being.  It was the happiest moment she had ever known.

“Oh, Edward,” she said, “do you—­do you really feel like that?”

His cheek was against her forehead.  He did not speak for a few seconds.  Then, with something of an effort, “Yes,” he said.  “It’s like that with me now, my dear.  I’ve been through—­a good deal—­these last days.  Now I’ve got you back—­please God, I’ll keep you!”

She pressed her face against him.  “Ah, but Edward, you know you’ve always wanted—­”

“Oh, damn my wants!” he broke in impatiently.  “I don’t want anything but you now.”