that there
was no need to move. This gave him a sort of moral satisfaction. Then
the first thought independent of personal sensations came into his head.
He wondered when Therese would come in and begin talking. He saw vaguely
a human figure in the room but that was a man. He was speaking in a
deadened voice which had yet a preternatural distinctness.

"This is the second case I have had in this house, and I am sure that
directly or indirectly it was connected with that woman. She will go on
like this leaving a track behind her and then some day there will be
really a corpse. This young fellow might have been it."

"In this case, Doctor," said another voice, "one can't blame the woman
very much. I assure you she made a very determined fight."

"What do you mean? That she didn't want to. . . "

"Yes. A very good fight. I heard all about it. It is easy to blame
her, but, as she asked me despairingly, could she go through life veiled
from head to foot or go out of it altogether into a convent? No, she
isn't guilty. She is simply--what she is."

"And what's that?"

"Very much of a woman. Perhaps a little more at the mercy of
contradictory impulses than other women. But that's not her fault. I
really think she has been very honest."

The voices sank suddenly to a still lower murmur and presently the shape
of the man went out of the room. Monsieur George heard distinctly the
door open and shut. Then he spoke for the first time, discovering, with
a particular pleasure, that it was quite easy to speak. He was even
under the impression that he had shouted:

"Who is here?"

From the shadow of the room (he recognized at once the characteristic
outlines of the bulky shape) Mills advanced to the side of the bed. Dona
Rita had telegraphed to him on the day of the duel and the man of books,
leaving his retreat, had come as fast as boats and trains could carry him
South. For, as he said later to Monsieur George, he had become fully
awake to his part of responsibility. And he added: "It was not of you
alone that I was thinking." But the very first question that Monsieur
George put to him was:

"How long is it since I saw you last?"

"Something like ten months," answered Mills' kindly voice.

"Ah! Is Therese outside the door? She stood there all night, you know."

"Yes, I heard of it. She is hundreds of miles away now."

"Well, then, ask Rita to come in."

"I can't do that, my dear boy," said