and the dread of public attention, might have influence upon him; but she could not believe that he would be affected by the thought of a material advantage. Perhaps she didn’t know him very well, but Charlie didn’t know him at all.
“Has it occurred to you that he’s madly in love with me?”
He did not answer, but he smiled at her with roguish eyes. She knew and loved that charming look of his.
“Well, what is it? I know you’re going to say something awful.”
“Well, you know, women are often under the impression that men are much more madly in love with them than they really are.”
For the first time she laughed. His confidence was catching.
“What a monstrous thing to say!”
“I put it to you that you haven’t been bothering much about your husband lately. Perhaps he isn’t quite so much in love with you as he was.”
“At all events I shall never delude myself that you are madly in love with me,” she retorted.
“That’s where you’re wrong.”
Ah, how good it was to hear him say that! She knew it and her belief in his passion warmed her heart. As he spoke he rose from the bed and came and sat down beside her on the sandalwood box. He put his arm round her waist.
“Don’t worry your silly little head a moment longer,” he said. “I promise you there’s nothing to fear. I’m as certain as I am of anything that he’s
