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 precious now; every moment brought Perseus nearer.

He rose and switched on the electric light; then he crossed to the window and dropped the blinds.

“That’s better; much more cosy. You're not cold?”

“Not in the least.”

“My mistake. I thought you were shiver- ing.”

He smiled, and for the first time she saw him as he really was. Within the last few days he had seemed to age ten years. His loose, heavy underlip had tightened to the teeth, shortening the lower jaw in a particularly re- pellent fashion. An added tinge of greyness seemed weirdly to patch his complexion. But the eyes were strangest of all, his glance con- centrated, fierce, unnaturally bright.

“He is quite mad,” she thought; “what shall I do with him?” But she succeeded in staring back at him with an affected indifference. In all their many battles of will he had never conquered. He must not conquer now.

“Do you know, Irene,” he was saying in his ordinary voice, “it seems to me that it is time

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