He was watching her lazily, with the amused, indulgent smile which certain of her moods had always the power to call forth; the smile of a strong man, who felt himself quite able to cope with them. "With such terrible sins as yours, Elizabeth," he said, "it must be indeed a dreadful thing to think of them."
She turned quickly towards him. "You don't think that they can be very bad?"
"I should be willing to take the risk of offering you absolution."
She bent down over her work so that her face was hidden. "Ah, you—you don't know"——she rather breathed than spoke. He only smiled incredulously, as one who knew her better than she did herself.
"Play for me, darling," he said, after awhile, and she went mechanically to the piano. But her playing was always a matter of mood, and to-night her fingers faltered, the keys did not respond as usual. She passed restlessly from one thing to another—snatches of Brahms, Chopin, Tschaikowski, with the same jarring note running through them all.
She broke off at last, with a wild clash of chords. "I can't play to-night," she said, and came back to the fire. "How calm you are!" she said, standing beside Gerard and looking down at him with eyes almost of reproach. "This horrible evening doesn't get on your nerves at all."
"How can it?"—Gerard possessed himself of her hand and raised it to his lips.—"How can I waste any regrets on the Old Year," he said, "when the New Year is to bring me—so much happiness?"
She started and caught her breath, as if the words held a sting. "Ah, yes," she repeated, very low "it is to bring you—so much happiness!" For a moment she left her hand in his and then withdrew it with a stifled sigh. She went back very still and pale, to her seat on the other side of the fire, and taking up her work, she fixed her eyes upon it intently.
"And so you think it is to bring you happiness?" she said, in a low voice, continuing the subject as it seemed in spite of herself. "You are quite sure of that, Julian, you have—no doubts?" She raised her eyes with a wistful questioning that puzzled him.
"Doubts, Elizabeth!" He stared back at her reproachfully, his brows drawn together frowning. "Why do you harp so much on that, my darling? Why should I have doubts?"