With her it was alternate torture and pleasure as well, but with him, for the first time since his wedding, there was not any pain.

For he felt he was affecting her, even if she were only "playing the game." And gradually, as the time went on and dessert was almost come, the conviction grew in Zara's brain that he was torturing her on purpose, overdoing the part when the servants were looking; for had he not told her but three hours before that he _had_ loved her--using the past tense--and no man regretted a thing more! Perhaps--was it possible--he had seen when he kissed her that she loved him! And he was just punishing her, and laughing at his dominion over her in his heart; so her pride took fire at once.

Well, she would not be played with! He would see she could keep to a bargain; and be icy, too, when the play was over.

So when at last the servants had left the room, before coffee was brought, she immediately stiffened and fell into silence; and the two stared in front of them, and back over him crept the chill.

Yes, there was no use deceiving himself.