She still leaned upon Juliet, but
it was her husband alone who could call that deep content into her eyes
which was gradually finding a permanent abiding-place in her heart. The
nearness of death had done for them what no circumstance of life had ever
accomplished. They had drawn very close together in its shadow, and as
they gradually left it behind the tie still held them in a bond that had
become sacred to them both. It was as if they had never really known each
other till now.
All Vera's arrogance had vanished in her husband's presence, just as his
curt imperiousness had given place to the winning dominance which he knew
so well how to wield. "You'll do it for me," was one of his pet phrases,
and he seldom uttered it in vain. She gave him the joyful sacrifice of
love newly-awakened.
"I wonder if we shall go on like this when I'm well again," she said to
him on an evening of rose-coloured dusk in early August when he was
sitting by her side with her long thin hand in his.
"Like what?" said Edward Fielding.
She smiled at him from her pillow. "Well, spoiling each other in this
way. Will you never be overbearing and dictatorial? Shall I never be
furious and hateful to you again?"
"I hope not," he said.
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