"No—the queer thing is, that, in spite of everything, I'm not sorry. I've always been glad, every moment, that I married you, even when I disliked you most."
"Yet you refused me seven times. So you see! You don't know what you want. Take what life gives you, Teresa; take it with both hands, don't be afraid. Drink deep, even if you suffer. Life—that's the main thing—it's more life you need, not less."
She looked into his eyes, where the flame of life indeed glowed keen and strong; and she clung to him, with the first feeling that his strength might protect her, with the first conscious yielding to it. She lay looking at him curiously.
"I believe you're glad," she said suddenly.
"I should be, if you were not unhappy," he answered, and looked almost shamefaced.
"It's odd that, though you're fond of me, you don't mind my suffering, or even that I might die. Remember your mother, she"
"Oh, don't! oh, don't!" he cried. "I couldn't live without you."
The tears rolled down his cheeks; and then Teresa, as always when she had moved him, became gentle, coaxing, and gay.
"Never mind what I say, I have no intention of dying. You won't have to live without me, but with me, and I warn you, that may be even
