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。"