"Certainly," John said, "I will give them to you!"
He unscrewed the top of the little bottle, and poured the white tabloids one after another into the palm of her hand. She looked at them for a moment, then into his face. John was still standing with his back towards the small fire. He felt the girl's hand on his arm; she was thrusting him aside. A moment later she had flung the tabloids into the red embers, and before John knew it she was holding his hand in hers, looking up into his face.
"Bernard," she said, in a low voice, "I believe—I believe you have changed! I think strength is coming to you—you will win yet!"
"Yes," John answered, "I swear I'll win."
The words came from him almost without volition, and at the same moment an instinct came to him that matters were drifting too far. He turned the conversation with a laugh, and for some minutes they were discussing general topics. He helped her to prepare the supper, going into the little kitchen and bringing out plates and dishes, under her direction.
Daylight faded, much to John's relief. They took supper together in the little parlour; John noticed how deft and womanly she was.
"Our friend Treves is a lucky man, if he only knew it," thought he.
"I am afraid there is nothing to drink, Bernard."
"That doesn't trouble me," John answered; then saw her pause with the teapot uplifted in frank surprise. "I mean," said John, striving to recover the situation, "if you haven't got it, I don't mind."
The meal passed off in an air of general cheerfulness. Elaine's little clock struck nine, and when the meal was at an end John took the seat opposite Elaine and her little work-basket. She busied herself with her fancy-work, and occasionally John caught her eyes resting upon him with a thoughtful and somewhat puzzled expression. He strove to gather from her manner what her feelings really were towards her husband. "She can't love him," thought John; "he's too much of a brute and a waster for that. And yet women are strange creatures."