She knew he was waking up. She must modify her soul, depart from her further world, for him.

She knew he was awake. He lay still, with a concrete stillness, not as when he slept. Then his arm tightened almost convulsively upon her, and he said, half timidly:

“Did you sleep well?”

“Very well.”

“So did I.”

There was a pause.

“And do you love me?” he asked.

She turned and looked at him searchingly. He seemed outside her.

“I do,” she said.

But she said it out of complacency and a desire not to