For weeks she had been working hard, without the fillip of congenial atmosphere, doggedly sticking to it in spite of depression and discouragement, and now that the results of her labour were ready to be given to the world, she was strung up to a high pitch and ill-prepared to receive a sudden check.
She had counted so intensely on winning Roger's sympathy and understanding--on putting an end to that blundering, terrible jealousy of his by playing the game to the limit of her ability.

It had been like making a burnt-offering for her to share the thing she loved best with Roger--to let him into some of the secret places where dwelt her inmost dreams and emotions.

And she had nerved herself to do it, made her sacrifice--in vain! Roger was even unconscious that it was a sacrifice! She looked down at him as he lay with the firelight flickering across his strong-featured face, and a storm of fury and indignation swept over her.

She could have struck him! Presently he stirred uneasily.

Perhaps he felt the cessation of the music, the sense of someone moving in the room.