The imaginations of Mr. Gunter Lake, two days behind Mr. Grammont upon the Atlantic, were of a gentler, more romantic character. In them V.V. was no longer a daughter in the fierce focus of a father’s jealousy, but the goddess enshrined in a good man’s heart. Indeed the figure that the limelight of the reverie fell upon was not V.V. at all but Mr. Gunter Lake himself, in his favourite role of the perfect lover.

An interminable speech unfolded itself. “I ask for nothing in return. I’ve never worried you about that Caston business and I never will. Married to me you shall be as free as if you were unmarried. Don’t I know, my dear girl, that you don’t love me yet. Let that be as you wish. I want nothing you are not willing to give me, nothing at all. All I ask is the privilege of making life happy—and it shall be happy—for you.... All I ask. All I ask. Protect, guard, cherish....”

For to Mr. Gunter Lake it seemed there could be no lovelier thing in life than a wife “in name only” slowly warmed into a glow of passion by the steadfast devotion and the strength and wisdom of a mate at first despised. Until at last a day would come....

“My darling!” Mr. Gunter Lake whispered to the darkness. “My little guurl. IT HAS BEEN WORTH THE WAITING....”