第4章

mother’sfriend。Theencounter，toDarrow，couldhardlyhavebeenmoreinopportune；itwokeinhimaconfusionoffeelingsofwhichonlytheuppermostwasallayedbyseeingSophyViner，asifinstinctivelywarned，meltbackintotheshadowoftheirbox。

AminutelaterOwenLeathwasathisside。"Iwassureitwasyou！Suchlucktorunacrossyou！Won’tyoucomeoffwithustosupperafterit’sover？Montmartre，orwhereverelseyouplease。Thosetwochapsovertherearefriendsofmine，attheBeauxArts；bothofthemrathergoodfellows——

andwe’dbesoglad————"

ForhalfasecondDarrowreadinhishospitableeyethetermination"ifyou’dbringtheladytoo"；thenitdeflectedinto："We’dallbesogladifyou’dcome。"

Darrow，excusinghimselfwiththanks，lingeredonforafewminutes’chat，inwhicheveryword，andeverytoneofhiscompanion’svoice，waslikeasharplightflashedintoachingeyes。Hewasgladwhenthebellcalledtheaudiencetotheirseats，andyoungLeathlefthimwiththefriendlyquestion："We’llseeyouatGivrelateron？"

WhenherejoinedMissViner，Darrow’sfirstcarewastofindout，byarapidinspectionofthehouse，whetherOwenLeath’sseathadgivenhimaviewoftheirbox。Buttheyoungmanwasnotvisiblefromit，andDarrowconcludedthathehadbeenrecognizedinthecorridorandnotathiscompanion’sside。Hescarcelyknewwhyitseemedtohimsoimportantthatthispointshouldbesettled；certainlyhissenseofreassurancewaslessduetoregardforMissVinerthantothepersistentvisionofgraveoffendedeyes……

DuringthedrivebacktothehotelthisvisionwaspersistentlykeptbeforehimbythethoughtthattheeveningpostmighthavebroughtaletterfromMrs。Leath。Evenifnoletterhadyetcome，hisservantmighthavetelegraphedtosaythatonewasonitsway；andatthethoughthisinterestinthegirlathissideagaincooledtothefraternal，thealmostfatherly。Shewasnomoretohim，afterall，thananappealingyoungcreaturetowhomitwasmildlyagreeabletohaveofferedanevening’sdiversion；andwhen，astheyrolledintotheilluminatedcourtofthehotel，sheturnedwithaquickmovementwhichbroughtherhappyfaceclosetohis，heleanedaway，affectingtobeabsorbedinopeningthedoorofthecab。

Atthedeskthenightporter，afteravainsearchthroughthepigeon—holes，wasdisposedtothinkthataletterortelegramhadinfactbeensentupforthegentleman；andDarrow，attheannouncement，couldhardlywaittoascendtohisroom。Upstairs，heandhiscompanionhadthelongdimly—litcorridortothemselves，andSophypausedonherthreshold，gatheringupinonehandthepalefoldsofhercloak，whilesheheldtheotherouttoDarrow。

"IfthetelegramcomesearlyIshallbeoffbythefirsttrain；soIsupposethisisgood—bye，"shesaid，hereyesdimmedbyalittleshadowofregret。

Darrow，witharenewedstartofcontrition，perceivedthathehadagainforgottenherletter；andastheirhandsmethevowedtohimselfthatthemomentshehadlefthimhewoulddashdownstairstopostit。

"Oh，I’llseeyouinthemorning，ofcourse！"

Atremorofpleasurecrossedherfaceashestoodbeforeher，smilingalittleuncertainly。

"Atanyrate，"shesaid，"Iwanttothankyounowformygoodday。"

Hefeltinherhandthesametremorhehadseeninherface。

"Butit’sYOU，onthecontrary——"hebegan，liftingthehandtohislips。

Ashedroppedit，andtheireyesmet，somethingpassedthroughhersthatwaslikealightcarriedrapidlybehindacurtainedwindow。

"Goodnight；youmustbeawfullytired，"hesaidwithafriendlyabruptness，turningawaywithoutevenwaitingtoseeherpassintoherroom。Heunlockedhisdoor，andstumblingoverthethresholdgropedinthedarknessfortheelectricbutton。Thelightshowedhimatelegramonthetable，andheforgoteverythingelseashecaughtitup。

"NoletterfromFrance，"themessageread。

ItfellfromDarrow’shandtothefloor，andhedroppedintoachairbythetableandsatgazingatthedingydrabandolivepatternofthecarpet。Shehadnotwritten，then；shehadnotwritten，anditwasmanifestnowthatshedidnotmeantowrite。Ifshehadhadanyintentionofexplaininghertelegramshewouldcertainly，withintwenty—fourhours，havefolloweditupbyaletter。Butsheevidentlydidnotintendtoexplainit，andhersilencecouldmeanonlythatshehadnoexplanationtogive，orelsethatshewastooindifferenttobeawarethatonewasneeded。

Darrow，facetofacewiththesealternatives，feltarecrudescenceofboyishmisery。Itwasnolongerhishurtvanitythatcriedout。Hetoldhimselfthathecouldhaveborneanequalamountofpain，ifonlyithadleftMrs。

Leath’simageuntouched；buthecouldnotbeartothinkofherastrivialorinsincere。Thethoughtwassointolerablethathefeltablinddesiretopunishsomeoneelseforthepainitcausedhim。

AshesatmoodilystaringatthecarpetitssillyintricaciesmeltedintoablurfromwhichtheeyesofMrs。

Leathagainlookedoutathim。Hesawthefinesweepofherbrows，andthedeeplookbeneaththemasshehadturnedfromhimontheirlasteveninginLondon。"Thiswillbegood—

bye，then，"shehadsaid；anditoccurredtohimthatherpartingphrasehadbeenthesameasSophyViner’s。

AtthethoughthejumpedtohisfeetandtookdownfromitshookthecoatinwhichhehadleftMissViner’sletter。Theclockmarkedthethirdquarteraftermidnight，andheknewitwouldmakenodifferenceifhewentdowntothepost—boxnoworearlythenextmorning；buthewantedtoclearhisconscience，andhavingfoundtheletterhewenttothedoor。

Asoundinthenextroommadehimpause。Hehadbecomeconsciousagainthat，afewfeetoff，ontheothersideofathinpartition，asmallkeenflameoflifewasquiveringandagitatingtheair。Sophy’sfacecamehacktohiminsistently。ItwasasvividnowasMrs。Leath’shadbeenamomentearlier。Herecalledwithafaintsmileofretrospectivepleasurethegirl’senjoymentofherevening，andtheinnumerablefinefeelersofsensationshehadthrownouttoitsimpressions。

Itgavehimacuriouslyclosesenseofherpresencetothinkthatatthatmomentshewaslivingoverherenjoymentasintenselyashewaslivingoverhisunhappiness。Hisowncasewasirremediable，butitwaseasyenoughtogiveherafewmorehoursofpleasure。Anddidshenotperhapssecretlyexpectitofhim？Afterall，ifshehadbeenveryanxioustojoinherfriendsshewouldhavetelegraphedthemonreachingParis，insteadofwriting。Hewonderednowthathehadnotbeenstruckatthemomentbysoartlessadevicetogainmoretime。Thefactofherhavingpractiseditdidnotmakehimthinklesswellofher；itmerelystrengthenedtheimpulsetousehisopportunity。Shewasstarving，poorchild，foralittleamusement，alittlepersonallife——whynotgiveherthechanceofanotherdayinParis？Ifhedidso，shouldhenotbemerelyfallinginwithherownhopes？

Atthethoughthissympathyforherrevived。Shebecameofabsorbinginteresttohimasanescapefromhimselfandanobjectaboutwhichhisthwartedactivitiescouldcluster。

Hefeltlessdrearilyalonebecauseofherbeingthere，ontheothersideofthedoor，andinhisgratitudetoherforgivinghimthisreliefhebegan，withindolentamusement，toplannewwaysofdetainingher。Hedroppedbackintohischair，litacigar，andsmiledalittleattheimageofhersmilingface。Hetriedtoimaginewhatincidentofthedayshewaslikelytoberecallingatthatparticularmoment，andwhatpartheprobablyplayedinit。Thatitwasnotasmallparthewascertain，andtheknowledgewasundeniablypleasant。

Nowandthenasoundfromherroombroughtbeforehimmorevividlytherealityofthesituationandthestrangenessofthevastswarmingsolitudeinwhichheandsheweremomentarilyisolated，amidlonglinesofroomseachholdingitsseparatesecret。ThenearnessofalltheseothermysteriesenclosingtheirsgaveDarrowamoreintimatesenseofthegirl’spresence，andthroughthefumesofhiscigarhisimaginationcontinuedtofollowhertoandfro，tracedthecurveofherslimyoungarmsassheraisedthemtoundoherhair，picturedtheslidingdownofherdresstothewaistandthentotheknees，andthewhitenessofherfeetassheslippedacrossthefloortobed……

Hestoodupandshookhimselfwithayawn，throwingawaytheendofhiscigar。Hisglance，infollowingit，litonthetelegramwhichhaddroppedtothefloor。Thesoundsinthenextroomhadceased，andoncemorehefeltaloneandunhappy。

Openingthewindow，hefoldedhisarmsonthesillandlookedoutonthevastlight—spangledmassofthecity，andthenupatthedarksky，inwhichthemorningplanetstood。

VI

AttheTheatreFrancais，thenextafternoon，Darrowyawnedandfidgetedinhisseat。

Thedaywaswarm，thetheatrecrowdedandairless，andtheperformance，itseemedtohim，intolerablybad。Hestoleaglanceathiscompanion，wonderingifshesharedhisfeelings。Herraptprofilebetrayednounrest，butpolitenessmighthavecausedhertofeignaninterestthatshedidnotfeel。Heleanedbackimpatiently，stiflinganotheryawn，andtryingtofixhisattentiononthestage。

Greatthingsweregoingforwardthere，andhewasnotinsensibletothesternbeautiesoftheancientdrama。Buttheinterpretationoftheplayseemedtohimasairlessandlifelessastheatmosphereofthetheatre。Theplayerswerethesamewhomhehadoftenapplaudedinthoseveryparts，andperhapsthatfactaddedtotheimpressionofstalenessandconventionalityproducedbytheirperformance。Surelyitwastimetoinfusenewbloodintotheveinsofthemoribundart。HehadtheimpressionthattheghostsofactorsweregivingaspectralperformanceontheshoresofStyx。

Certainlyitwasnotthemostprofitablewayforayoungmanwithaprettycompaniontopassthegoldenhoursofaspringafternoon。Thefreshnessofthefaceathisside，reflectingthefreshnessoftheseason，suggesteddapplingsofsunlightthroughnewleaves，thesoundofabrookinthegrass，therippleoftree—shadowsoverbreezymeadows……

Whenatlengththefatefulmarchofthecothurnswasstayedbythesinglepauseintheplay，andDarrowhadledMissVineroutonthebalconyoverhangingthesquarebeforethetheatre，heturnedtoseeifshesharedhisfeelings。Buttherapturouslookshegavehimcheckedthedepreciationonhislips。

"Oh，whydidyoubringmeouthere？Oneoughttocreepawayandsitinthedarktillitbeginsagain！"

"IsTHATthewaytheymadeyoufeel？"

"Didn’ttheyYOU？……Asifthegodswerethereallthewhile，justbehindthem，pullingthestrings？"Herhandswerepressedagainsttherailing，herfaceshininganddarkeningunderthewing—beatsofsuccessiveimpressions。

Darrowsmiledinenjoymentofherpleasure。Afterall，hehadfeltallthat，longago；perhapsitwashisownfault，ratherthanthatoftheactors，thatthepoetryoftheplayseemedtohaveevaporated……Butno，hehadbeenrightinjudgingtheperformancetobedullandstale：itwassimplyhiscompanion’sinexperience，herlackofoccasionstocompareandestimate，thatmadeherthinkitbrilliant。

"Iwasafraidyouwereboredandwantedtocomeaway。"

"BORED？"Shemadealittleaggrievedgrimace。"Youmeanyouthoughtmetooignorantandstupidtoappreciateit？"

"No；notthat。"Thehandnearesthimstilllayontherailingofthebalcony，andhecovereditforamomentwithhis。Ashedidsohesawthecolourriseandtrembleinhercheek。

"Tellmejustwhatyouthink，"hesaid，bendinghisheadalittle，andonlyhalf—awareofhiswords。

Shedidnotturnherfacetohis，butbegantotalkrapidly，tryingtoconveysomethingofwhatshefelt。Butshewasevidentlyunusedtoanalyzingheraestheticemotions，andthetumultuousrushofthedramaseemedtohaveleftherinastateofpantingwonder，asthoughithadbeenastormorsomeothernaturalcataclysm。Shehadnoliteraryorhistoricassociationstowhichtoattachherimpressions：

hereducationhadevidentlynotcomprisedacourseinGreekliterature。Butshefeltwhatwouldprobablyhavebeenunperceivedbymanyayoungladywhohadtakenafirstinclassics：theineluctablefatalityofthetale，thedreadswayinitofthesamemysterious"luck"whichpulledthethreadsofherownsmalldestiny。Itwasnotliteraturetoher，itwasfact：asactual，asnearby，aswhatwashappeningtoheratthemomentandwhatthenexthourheldinstore。Seeninthislight，theplayregainedforDarrowitssupremeandpoignantreality。Hepiercedtotheheartofitssignificancethroughalltheartificialaccretionswithwhichhistheoriesofartandtheconventionsofthestagehadclothedit，andsawitashehadneverseenit：aslife。

Afterthistherecouldbenoquestionofflight，andhetookherbacktothetheatre，contenttoreceivehisownsensationsthroughthemediumofhers。Butwiththecontinuationoftheplay，andtheoppressionoftheheavyair，hisattentionagainbegantowander，strayingbackovertheincidentsofthemorning。

HehadbeenwithSophyVinerallday，andhewassurprisedtofindhowquicklythetimehadgone。Shehadhardlyattempted，asthehourspassed，toconcealhersatisfactiononfindingthatnotelegramcamefromtheFarlows。"They’llhavewritten，"shehadsimplysaid；andhermindhadatonceflownontothegoldenprospectofanafternoonatthetheatre。Theinterveninghourshadbeendisposedofinastrollthroughthelivelystreets，andarepast，luxuriouslylingeredover，underthechestnut—boughsofarestaurantintheChampsElysees。Everythingentertainedandinterestedher，andDarrowremarked，withanamuseddetachment，thatshewasnotinsensibletotheimpressionhercharmsproduced。Yettherewasnohardedgeofvanityinhersenseofherprettiness：sheseemedsimplytobeawareofitasanoteinthegeneralharmony，andtoenjoysoundingthenoteasasingerenjoyssinging。

Afterluncheon，astheysatovertheircoffee，shehadagainaskedanimmensenumberofquestionsanddeliveredherselfofaremarkablevarietyofopinions。Herquestionstestifiedtoawholesomeandcomprehensivehumancuriosity，andhercommentsshowed，likeherfaceandherwholeattitude，anoddminglingofprecociouswisdomanddisarmingignorance。

Whenshetalkedtohimabout"life"——thewordwasoftenonherlips——sheseemedtohimlikeachildplayingwithatiger’scub；andhesaidtohimselfthatsomedaythechildwouldgrowup——andsowouldthetiger。Meanwhile，suchexpertnessqualifiedbysuchcandourmadeitimpossibletoguesstheextentofherpersonalexperience，ortoestimateitseffectonhercharacter。Shemightbeanyoneofadozendefinabletypes，orshemight——moredisconcertinglytohercompanionandmoreperilouslytoherself——beashiftinganduncrystallizedmixtureofthemall。

Hertalk，asusual，hadpromptlyrevertedtothestage。Shewaseagertolearnabouteveryformofdramaticexpressionwhichthemetropolisofthingstheatricalhadtooffer，andhercuriosityrangedfromtheofficialtemplesofthearttoitslesshallowedhaunts。Hersearchingenquiriesaboutaplaywhoseproduction，ononeofthelatterscenes，hadprovokedaconsiderableamountofscandal，ledDarrowtothrowoutlaughingly："ToseeTHATyou’llhavetowaittillyou’remarried！"andhisanswerhadsentheroffatatangent。

"Oh，Inevermeantomarry，"shehadrejoinedinatoneofyouthfulfinality。

"Iseemtohaveheardthatbefore！"

"Yes；fromgirlswho’veonlygottochoose！"Hereyeshadgrownsuddenlyalmostold。"I’dlikeyoutoseetheonlymenwho’veeverwantedtomarryme！Onewasthedoctoronthesteamer，whenIcameabroadwiththeHokes：he’dbeencashieredfromthenavyfordrunkenness。Theotherwasadeafwidowerwiththreegrown—updaughters，whokeptaclock—shopinBayswater！——Besides，"sherambledon，"I’mnotsosurethatIbelieveinmarriage。YouseeI’mallforself—developmentandthechancetoliveone’slife。I’mawfullymodern，youknow。"

Itwasjustwhensheproclaimedherselfmostawfullymodernthatshestruckhimasmosthelplesslybackward；yetthemomentafter，withoutanybravado，orapparentdesiretoassumeanattitude，shewouldpropoundsomesocialaxiomwhichcouldhavebeengatheredonlyinthebittersoilofexperience。

Allthesethingscamebacktohimashesatbesideherinthetheatreandwatchedheringenuousabsorption。Itwason"thestory"thathermindwasfixed，andinlifealso，hesuspected，itwouldalwaysbe"thestory"，ratherthanitsremoterimaginativeissues，thatwouldholdher。Hedidnotbelievetherewereeveranyechoesinhersoul……

Therewasnoquestion，however，thatwhatshefeltwasfeltwithintensity：totheactual，theimmediate，shespreadvibratingstrings。Whentheplaywasover，andtheycameoutoncemoreintothesunlight，Darrowlookeddownatherwithasmile。

"Well？"heasked。

Shemadenoanswer。Herdarkgazeseemedtorestonhimwithoutseeinghim。Hercheeksandlipswerepale，andtheloosehairunderherhat—brimclungtoherforeheadindamprings。Shelookedlikeayoungpriestessstilldazedbythefumesofthecavern。

"Youpoorchild——it’sbeenalmosttoomuchforyou！"

Sheshookherheadwithavaguesmile。

"Come，"hewenton，puttinghishandonherarm，"let’sjumpintoataxiandgetsomeairandsunshine。Look，therearehoursofdaylightleft；andseewhatanightit’sgoingtobe！"

Hepointedovertheirheads，towhereawhitemoonhunginthemistyblueabovetheroofsoftheruedeRivoli。

Shemadenoanswer，andhesignedtoamotor—cab，callingouttothedriver："TotheBois！"

AsthecarriageturnedtowardtheTuileriessherousedherself。"Imustgofirsttothehotel。Theremaybeamessage——atanyrateImustdecideonsomething。"

Darrowsawthattherealityofthesituationhadsuddenlyforceditselfuponher。"IMUSTdecideonsomething，"

sherepeated。

Hewouldhavelikedtopostponethereturn，topersuadehertodrivedirectlytotheBoisfordinner。ItwouldhavebeeneasyenoughtoremindherthatshecouldnotstartforJoignythatevening，andthatthereforeitwasofnomomentwhethershereceivedtheFarlows’answerthenorafewhourslater；butforsomereasonhehesitatedtousethisargument，whichhadcomesonaturallytohimthedaybefore。

Afterall，heknewshewouldfindnothingatthehotel——sowhatdiditmatteriftheywentthere？

Theporter，interrogated，wasnotsure。Hehimselfhadreceivednothingforthelady，butinhisabsencehissubordinatemighthavesentaletterupstairs。

DarrowandSophymountedtogetherinthelift，andtheyoungman，whileshewentintoherroom，unlockedhisowndoorandglancedattheemptytable。Forhimatleastnomessagehadcome；andonherthreshold，amomentlater，shemethimwiththeexpected："No——there’snothing！"

Hefeignedanunregretfulsurprise。"Somuchthebetter！

Andnow，shallwedriveoutsomewhere？OrwouldyourathertakeaboattoBellevue？Haveyoueverdinedthere，ontheterrace，bymoonlight？It’snotatallbad。Andthere’snoearthlyuseinsittingherewaiting。"

Shestoodbeforehiminperplexity。

"ButwhenIwroteyesterdayIaskedthemtotelegraph。I

supposethey’rehorriblyhardup，thepoordears，andtheythoughtaletterwoulddoaswellasatelegram。"Thecolourhadrisentoherface。"That’swhyIwroteinsteadoftelegraphing；Ihaven’tapennytosparemyself！"

Nothingshecouldhavesaidcouldhavefilledherlistenerwithadeepercontrition。Hefelttheredinhisownfaceasherecalledthemotivewithwhichhehadcreditedherinhismidnightmusings。Butthatmotive，afterall，hadsimplybeentrumpeduptojustifyhisowndisloyalty：hehadneverreallybelievedinit。Thereflectiondeepenedhisconfusion，andhewouldhavelikedtotakeherhandinhisandconfesstheinjusticehehaddoneher。

Shemayhaveinterpretedhischangeofcolourasaninvoluntaryprotestatbeinginitiatedintosuchshabbydetails，forshewentonwithalaugh："Isupposeyoucanhardlyunderstandwhatitmeanstohavetostopandthinkwhetheronecanaffordatelegram？ButI’vealwayshadtoconsidersuchthings。AndImustn’tstayhereanylongernow——ImusttrytogetanighttrainforJoigny。EveniftheFarlowscan’ttakemein，Icangotothehotel：itwillcostlessthanstayinghere。"Shepausedagainandthenexclaimed："Ioughttohavethoughtofthatsooner；Ioughttohavetelegraphedyesterday！ButIwassureIshouldhearfromthemtoday；andIwanted——oh，IDIDsoawfullywanttostay！"ShethrewatroubledlookatDarrow。"Doyouhappentoremember，"sheasked，"whattimeitwaswhenyoupostedmyletter？"

VII

Darrowwasstillstandingonherthreshold。Assheputthequestionheenteredtheroomandclosedthedoorbehindhim。

Hisheartwasbeatingalittlefasterthanusualandhehadnoclearideaofwhathewasabouttodoorsay，beyondthedefiniteconvictionthat，whateverpassingimpulseofexpiationmovedhim，hewouldnotbefoolenoughtotellherthathehadnotsentherletter。Heknewthatmostwrongdoingworks，onthewhole，lessmischiefthanitsuselessconfession；andthiswasclearlyacasewhereapassingfollymightbeturned，byavowal，intoaseriousoffense。

"I’msosorry——sosorry；butyoumustletmehelpyou……Youwillletmehelpyou？"hesaid。

Hetookherhandsandpressedthemtogetherbetweenhis，countingonafriendlytouchtohelpouttheinsufficiencyofwords。Hefeltheryieldslightlytohisclasp，andhurriedonwithoutgivinghertimetoanswer。

"Isn’titapitytospoilourgoodtimetogetherbyregrettinganythingyoumighthavedonetopreventourhavingit？"

Shedrewback，freeingherhands。Herface，losingitslookofappealingconfidence，wassuddenlysharpenedbydistrust。

"Youdidn’tforgettopostmyletter？"

Darrowstoodbeforeher，constrainedandashamed，andevermorekeenlyawarethatthebetrayalofhisdistressmustbeagreateroffensethanitsconcealment。

"Whataninsinuation！"hecried，throwingouthishandswithalaugh。

Herfaceinstantlymeltedtolaughter。"Well，then——I

WON’Tbesorry；Iwon’tregretanythingexceptthatourgoodtimeisover！"

Thewordsweresounexpectedthattheyroutedallhisresolves。Ifshehadgoneondoubtinghimhecouldprobablyhavegoneondeceivingher；butherunhesitatingacceptanceofhiswordmadehimhatetheparthewasplaying。Atthesamemomentadoubtshotupitsserpentheadinhisownbosom。Wasitnotheratherthanshewhowaschildishlytrustful？Wasshenotalmosttooreadytotakehisword，anddismissonceforallthetiresomequestionoftheletter？

Consideringwhatherexperiencesmusthavebeen，suchtrustfulnessseemedopentosuspicion。Butthemomenthiseyesfellonherhewasashamedofthethought，andknewitforwhatitreallywas：anotherpretexttolessenhisowndelinquency。

"Whyshouldourgoodtimebeover？"heasked。"Whyshouldn’titlastalittlelonger？"

Shelookedup，herlipspartedinsurprise；butbeforeshecouldspeakhewenton："Iwantyoutostaywithme——Iwantyou，justforafewdays，tohaveallthethingsyou’veneverhad。It’snotalwaysMayandParis——whynotmakethemostofthemnow？Youknowme——we’renotstrangers——whyshouldn’tyoutreatmelikeafriend？"

Whilehespokeshehaddrawnawayalittle，butherhandstilllayinhis。Shewaspale，andhereyeswerefixedonhiminagazeinwhichtherewasneitherdistrustorresentment，butonlyaningenuouswonder。Hewasextraordinarilytouchedbyherexpression。

"Oh，do！Youmust。Listen：toprovethatI’msincereI’lltellyou……I’lltellyouIdidn’tpostyourletter……I

didn’tpostitbecauseIwantedsomuchtogiveyouafewgoodhours……andbecauseIcouldn’tbeartohaveyougo。"

Hehadthefeelingthatthewordswerebeingutteredinspiteofhimbysomemaliciouswitnessofthescene，andyetthathewasnotsorrytohavethemspoken。

Thegirlhadlistenedtohiminsilence。Sheremainedmotionlessforamomentafterhehadceasedtospeak；thenshesnatchedawayherhand。

"Youdidn’tpostmyletter？Youkeptitbackonpurpose？AndyoutellmesoNOW，toprovetomethatI’dbetterputmyselfunderyourprotection？"SheburstintoalaughthathadinitallthepiercingechoesofherMurrettpast，andherface，atthesamemoment，underwentthesamechange，shrinkingintoasmallmalevolentwhitemaskinwhichtheeyesburnedblack。"Thankyou——thankyoumostawfullyfortellingme！Andforallyourotherkindintentions！Theplan’sdelightful——reallyquitedelightful，andI’mextremelyflatteredandobliged。"