"It seems to be——"
"No! I—I ask you—not to say it—think it——"
"How can I help thinking it—thinking that you only care for me—that the only attraction on your part is—is intellectual——"
She disengaged her hand from his and shrank away into the velvet depths of her chair.
"I can't help it," he said. "I've got to say what I think. Never since I have told you I loved you have you ever hinted at any response, even to the lightest caress. We are married. Whatever—however foolish I may have been—God knows you have made me pay for it this day. How long am I to continue paying? I tell you a man can't remain repentant too long under the stern and chilling eyes of retribution. If you are going to treat me as though I were physically unfit to touch, I can make no further protest. But, Jacqueline, no man was ever aided by a punishment that wounds his self-respect."
"I must consider mine, too," she said, in a ghost of a voice.
"Very well," he said, "if you think you must maintain it at the expense of mine——"
"Jim!"
The low cry left her lips trembling.
"What?" he said, angrily.