And Jake smiled in answer. "A man ought to be able to valet his own wife," he said.
The words were simply uttered, but they sent the blood to her cheeks. "You--you are very good to me," she murmured confusedly. "I--ought not to let you."
"Don't you worry any about that!" said Jake. "The main idea is to get you to bed."
"I am sure I shall never sleep again," she said.
Yet as she sank down at last upon the pillow there was a measure of relief in her eyes.
"Now you're going to lie quiet till morning," Jake said, tucking in the bedclothes with motherly care. "Good night, my girl! Is that comfortable?"
He kissed her for the second time, lightly, caressingly, exactly as he might have kissed a child.
She tried to answer him, to thank him, but could not. He smoothed the hair from her temples, and turned away.
But in that moment her hands came out to him with a gesture that was almost convulsive, caught and held his sleeve. "Oh, Jake!" she said. "Jake! I'm so lonely!" and suddenly began to sob--"I want you more than Bunny does. Don't go! Don't go!"
It was a cry of utter desolation. He turned back to her on the instant. He stooped over her, his face close to hers. "Do you mean that?" he said, and in his voice, low as it was, there sounded a deep note as of something forcibly suppressed.