Then she gave a happy little sigh, for her husband's great arm was around her shoulders.
"All my life, Daphne," said his deep voice, "I have thought that the sweetest thing in this world was victory. Now I have just received my first defeat—you routed me, hip and thigh—and I am happier than I have ever been. Why?"
"Think!" commanded a muffled voice in the neighbourhood of his waistcoat.
Juggernaut obeyed. Then he continued, and his grip round Daphne grew stronger—
"I think I see. I married you because I wanted some one to keep my house in order and bear me a son. (That point of view did not endure long, I may say, for I fell in love with you on our honeymoon, and I have loved you ever since; but it was my point of view when I asked you to marry me.) I thought then that it would be a fair bargain if I gave you money and position in return for these things. We could not help living contentedly together, I considered, under the terms of such a logical and business-like contract as that. Well, I did not know then, what I know now, that logic and business are utterly valueless as a foundation for any contract between a man and a woman. The only thing that is the slightest use for the purpose is the most illogical and unbusiness-like thing in the whole wide world. And"—his iron features relaxed into a smile of rare sweetness—"I believe, I believe, cara mia, that you and I have found that thing—together." His voice dropped lower. "Have we, Daphne—my wife?"
Daphne raised her head, and looked her man full in the face.
"We have found it, O my husband," she said gravely—"at last!"
The door flew open suddenly. There was a gleam of electric light. Graves, the imperturbable, inclined respectfully before them.
"You are wanted outside, sir," he said, "badly!"