ted commands was rising, rising until it became the thunder of a
sea that filled his ears, annihilating all other sounds. A swift, sharp
terror smote him; he sought desperately to maintain his consciousness,
but, breaking across the effort an icy breath crept up from nowhere,
fanning his cheek, suspending all struggle, and a palpable darkness,
like the darkness of brooding wings, closed in upon him, bringing
oblivion.

CHAPTER XXXV

Who shall depict the soul of woman? As well essay to number the silk
hairs on the moth's wing, or paint truly the hues in the blown bubble!
The soul of woman dwells apart, subject to no laws, trammelled by no
precedent; mysterious in its essence, strong in its very frailty, it
passes through many phases to its ultimate end, working as all great
agents work, silently and in the dark.

With the passing of Blake, the spiritual Maxine entered upon a new
phase--was arbitrarily forced into a new phase of existence. The passing
of Blake was sudden, tremendous, devastating in its effect, leaving as
consequences a moral blackness, a moral chaos.

It was a new Maxine who wakened to the realization of facts; rather, it
was a new Max, for it was the masculine, not the feminine ego that
turned a set face to circumstance in the moment of desertion--that
sedulously wrapped itself in the garment of pride spun and fashioned in
happier hours.

'Now is the test! Now is the time!' Max insisted, drowning by insistence
the poignant cry of the heart; and to this watchword he marched against
fate.

With set purpose he faced life and its vexed questions in that bitter,
precipitate moment. Again it was the beginning of things; but it was the
rue Mueller and not the Gare du Nord that was the scene of action; the
May sun fell burning on the Parisian pavements, while the blood of the
adventurer ran slow and cold. The illusions bred of the winter dawn had
been dispersed by the light of day; life was no glad enterprise--no
climbing of golden heights, but the barren crossing of a trackless
region where no hand proffered guidance and false signs misled the weary
eyes. One weapon alone was necessary in the pursuance of the gray
journey--a sure command--a sure possession of one's self!

This thought alone made harmony with the music of the past, and toward
its thin sound his ears were strained. Comradeship had come and
gone--love had come and gone--the fundamental idea that had lured him to
Paris alone remain