ve
me. But this pig!" He gnashed his teeth upon the word.

"Stop, Mr. Switzer," said Jane, controlling her agitation and her
terror. "You must not speak to me like that. You are forgetting
yourself."

"Forgetting myself!" he raged, his face livid blue and white.
"Forgetting myself! Yes, yes! I forget everything but one thing. That I
shall not forget. I shall not forget him nor how he stole her from
me. Gott in Himmel! Him I shall never forget. No, when these hairs
are white," he struck his head with his clenched fist, "I shall still
remember and curse him." Abruptly he stayed the rush of his words. Then
more deliberately but with an added intensity of passion he continued,
"But no, never shall he have her. Never. God hears me. Never. Him I
will kill, destroy." He had wrought himself up into a paroxysm of
uncontrollable fury, his breath came in jerking gasps, his features
worked with convulsive twitchings, his jaws champed and snapped upon his
words like a dog's worrying rats.

To Jane it seemed a horrible and repulsive sight, yet she could not stay
her pity from him. She remembered it was love that had moved him to this
pitch of madness. Love after all was a terrible thing. She could not
despise him. She could only pity. Her very silence at length recalled
him. For some moments he stood struggling to regain his composure.
Gradually he became aware that her eyes were resting on his face. The
pity in her eyes touched him, subdued him, quenched the heat of his
rage.

"I have lost her," he said, his lips quivering. "She will never change."

"No, she will never change," replied Jane gently. "But you can always
love her. And she will be happy."

"She will be happy?" he exclaimed, looking at her in astonishment. "But
she will not be mine."

"No, she will not be yours," said Jane still very gently, "but she will
be happy, and after all, that is what you most want. You are anxious
chiefly that she shall be happy. You would give everything to make her
happy."

"I would give my life. Oh, gladly, gladly, I would give my life, I would
give my soul, I would give everything I have on earth and heaven too."

"Then don't grieve too much," said Jane, putting her hand on his arm.
"She will be happy."

"But what of me?" he cried pitifully, his voice and lips trembling like
those of a little child in distress. "Shall I be happy?"

"No, not now," replied Jane steadily, striving to keep back her tears,
"perhaps some day. But yo