“Dream-man!” she murmured.

As consciousness returns after a swoon, so did realization return to Alaire Austin.  Faintly, uncertainly at first, then with a swift, strong effort she pushed herself out of Dave’s reluctant arms.  They stood apart, frightened.  Dave’s gaze was questioning.  Alaire began to tremble and to struggle with her breath.

“Are we—­mad?” she gasped.  “What have we done?”

“There’s no use righting.  It was here—­it was bound to come out.  Oh, Alaire—!”

“Don’t!” She shook her head, and, avoiding his outstretched hands, went to the edge of the veranda and leaned weakly against a pillar, with her head in the crook of her arm.  Dave followed her, but the words he spoke were scarcely intelligible.

Finally she raised her face to his:  “No!  It is useless to deny it--now that we know.  But I didn’t know, until a moment ago.”

“I’ve known, all the time—­ever since the first moment I saw you,” he told her, hoarsely.  “To me you’re all there is; nothing else matters.  And you love me!  God!  I wonder if I’m awake.”

“Dream-man,” she repeated, more slowly.  “Oh, why did you come so late?”

“So late?”

“Yes.  We must think it out, the best way we can, I—­wonder what you think of me?”

“You must know.  There’s no need for excuses; there’s nothing to explain, except the miracle that such great happiness could come to a fellow like me.”

“Happiness?  It means anything but that.  I was miserable enough before, what shall I do now?”

“Why, readjust your life,” he cried, roughly.  “Surely you won’t hesitate after this?”

But Alaire did not seem to hear him.  She was staring out into the night again.  “What a failure I must be!” she murmured, finally.  “I suppose I should have seen this coming, but—­I didn’t.  And in his house, too!  This dress is his, and these jewels—­everything!” She held up her hands and stared curiously at the few rings she wore, as if seeing them for the first time.  “How does that make you feel?”

Dave stirred; there was resentment in his voice when he answered:  “Your husband has sacrificed his claim to you, as everybody knows.  To my mind he has lost his rights.  You’re mine, mine!  By God!” He waved a vigorous gesture of defiance.  “I’ll take you away from him at any cost.  I’ll see that he gives you up, somehow.  You’re all I have.”

“Of course the law provides a way, but you wouldn’t, couldn’t, understand how I feel about divorce.”  The mere mention of the word was difficult and caused Alaire to clench her hands.  “We’re both too shaken to talk sanely now, so let’s wait—­”

“There’s something you must understand before we go any further,” Dave insisted.  “I’m poor; I haven’t a thing I can call my own, so I’m not sure I have any right to take you away from all this.”  He turned a hostile eye upon their surroundings.  “Most people would say that I’ve simply wasted my life.  Perhaps I have—­that depends upon the way you look at it and upon what you consider worth while—­anyhow, all I can offer you is love—­” He broke off momentarily as if his breath had suddenly failed him.  “Greater love, it seems to me, than any woman ever had.”