He went into the dining-room and returned with a decanter and two glasses.
“Your health, darling,” he said.
Helena drank and her cheeks caught fire.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, putting his arm round her waist.
“I’m not happy,” she replied.
He was conscious that the words sounded dry and artificial, but his passion was roused and he didn’t care.
“Do you know why you are unhappy?” he asked.
“No. I only know one thing, and that is that I love you.”
Albert caught her in his arms and kissed her face.
“Are you my wife, or aren’t you?” he whispered hoarsely.