Soon he puffed lazily, drowsily; then he nodded, and then the pipe
fell from his mouth.
"Hullo!" And muttering, he roused himself. "I must 'a' dropped off.
Might 'a' set the bed on fire."
Mavis, in her chemise and stockings now, with her hair down, was still
at the dressing-table. She did not turn when he spoke to her. While he
dozed she had fetched the other candle, and in the double light she
was staring intently at the reflection of her face in the
looking-glass.
Dale slipped softly off the bed, moved across to the dressing-table,
and with explosive vigor clasped her in his arms.
"Oh, how you frightened me!" She had given a little squeal, and she
tried to release herself. "Let me go--please."
"Rot!" And he lifted her from the ground, and carried her across to
the bed.
"Will--let me go. I--I'm tired;" and she began to cry. "Be kind to me,
Will." The words came in feeble entreaty, between weak sobs. "Be kind
to me--my husband--not only now--but always."
She sobbed and shivered; and he, holding her in his arms, soothed her
with gentle murmurs. "My pretty Mav! My poor little bird. Go to
sleepy-by, then. Tuck her up, and send her to sleep, a dear little
Mav." At the touch of her coldly trembling limbs, at the sight of her
tears, all the sensual desire lessened its throb, and the purer side
of his love began to subjugate him.
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