CHAPTER IV

STORMS There came a time then of blessed and grateful unconsciousness. The tumult of the storm was reduced to a mere singing in my ears, and darkness seemed to have closed in around me. When I opened my eyes, I was resting in his arms, and a delicious sense of happiness was stealing through me. Sensation had overpowered memory, and I was happy. Ah! if life could have ended then--that was how I felt. If only the future and that shrunken relentless figure pointing me on to tragedy--if only they could have melted…