“You and Sabine would never really have been happy together,” she now told him.  “You were much too subservient to her and let her order you about.  She would have grown into a bully.  Now, Mr. Arranstoun won’t stand a scrap of nonsense, I am sure; he would make any woman obey him—­if necessary by using brute force!  They are perfectly suited to one another, and very soon you will realize it and won’t care.  Do you remember how we talked at dinner that night at Ebbsworth about women having to go through a stage in their lives sooner or later when they adored just strength in a man and wanted a master?  Well, I wondered then if Sabine had passed hers, but I was afraid of hurting you, so I would not say that I rather thought she had not.”

“Oh, I wish you had!” Henry spoke at last.  “And yet, no—­the whole thing has been inevitable from the first, I see it plainly.  The only thing is, if I had found it out sooner it might have saved Sabine pain.  But it is not too late, thank God—­the divorce proceedings can be quashed; it would have been a little ironical if she had had to marry him again.”

“Yes,” Moravia agreed.  “Now, if we could only get him to come here immediately, we could explain it all to him and make him wire to his lawyers at once.”

“I have already sent for him—­I think he will arrive to-morrow at nine.”

“How glorious!  It was just the dear, splendid thing you would do, Henry,” Moravia cried, getting up from her knees.  “But we won’t tell Sabine; we will just let her mope there up in her room, feeling as miserable as she deserves to be for not knowing her own mind.  We will all have a nice dinner—­no, that won’t be it—­you and I will dine alone here, up in this room, and Papa can talk to Madame Imogen.  In this house, thank goodness, we can all do what we like, and I am not going to leave you, Henry, until we have got to say good-night.  I don’t care whether you want me or not—­I have just taken charge of you, and I mean you to do what I wish—­there!”

And she crept closer to him again and laid her face upon his breast, so that his cheek was resting upon her soft dark hair.  Great waves of comfort flowed to Henry.  This sweet woman loved him, at all events.  So he put his arm round her again, while he assured her he did want her, and that she was an angel, and other such terms.  And by the time she allowed him to go to his room to dress for dinner, a great measure of his usual nerve and balance was restored.  She had not given him a moment to think, even shaking her finger at him and saying that if he was more than twenty minutes dressing, she would herself come and fetch him and bring him back to her room.

Then, when he had left her, this true daughter of Eve, after ordering dinner to be served to them, proceeded to make herself as beautiful as possible for the next scene.  She felt radiant.  It was enormous what she had done.

“Why, he was on the verge of suicide!” she said to herself, “and now he is almost ready to smile.  Before the evening is over I shall have made him kiss me—­and before a month is past we shall be engaged.  What perfect nonsense to have silly mawkish sentiment over anything!  The thing to do is to win one’s game.”