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 said to him the last time she had seen him in the ice-house. In a twinkling she had become the identical girl again, struggling, resisting, fighting something she didn't want.

But she would not be conquered this time against her wish, against her will.

'It's getting dark. Let's have a light,' she said, in a bright, practical voice, and she drew her foot away from Felix's, which he had stealthily shoved against hers when last she spoke. It was as if she had repulsed a dog who had come back faithful to her after many years. He seemed to cower.

'All right,' he acquiesced. 'I guess I understand.'

'Oh, I'm so sorry, Felix.'

How was it he contrived always to make her feel sorry?

'Oh, I'm not good enough.'

'Yes, you are!'

'I'll never amount to anything.'

'Yes, you will!'

'Not if you don't care, I won't. Everything I do is for you, Sheilah,' he added in a dull voice, as if stating a very old and familiar fact.

'After all these years?' she queried gently.

He nodded and stood very still before her, aware