"Is it true that thou didst carry me in thine arms?" repeated Christine.
He murmured into her mouth:
"Is it true? Can she doubt? The proof, then."
And he picked her up as though she had been a doll, and carried her into the bedroom. As she lay on the bed, she raised her arm and looked at the broken wrist-watch and sighed.
"My mascot. It is not a blague, my mascot."
Shortly afterwards she began to cry again, at first gently; then sobs supervened.
"She must sleep," he said firmly.
She shook her head.
"I cannot. I have been too upset. It is impossible that I should sleep."
"She must."