"Won't you try it ?" Very reluctantly she took the steaming beverage from him and began to drink.
He remained beside her, and took the cup from her when she had finished.
"Now," he said, "wouldn't it be wise of you to go to bed ?" She made a movement that was almost convulsive.

She had his note still clasped in her hand.
After a moment, without lifting her eyes, she spoke.

"Percival, why did you--what made you--write this ?" "I owed it to you," he said.
"You--meant it ?" she said, with an effort.
"Yes.

I meant it." He spoke with complete steadiness.
"But--but--" She struggled with herself for an instant; then, "Oh, I've got to tell you!" she burst forth passionately.

"I'm--very wicked." "No," he said quietly, and laid a constraining hand upon her as she sat.
"That is not so." She contracted at his touch.