CHAPTER VII

"COMFORT! COMFORT SCORNED OF DEVILS" "Adrienne, I am the happiest man in the world." "For how long, sir?" "_Pour la vie_," he answered solemnly. Her hand stole softly into his, and there was a long silence between them. What need had they of words? It is only the lighter form of love, fancy touched by sentiment, which seeks for expressions by such means. Their love was different; a silent consciousness of each other's presence sufficed for them. And so they sat there, side by side, steeped in the deep, subtle …