terror. "You are letting me remember. Ah, no, no, you
don't love me! I hate you!"

Quickly he bent and kissed her.

"I will come for you to-morrow evening," he said. "You will be ready
then to go with me?"

"Ready then? Yes, yes, to go with you anywhere."

He stood still a moment, listening. Somewhere a door closed. He heard
the hoofs upon the asphalt again.

"Good-by," he whispered. "God bless you! Good-by till to-morrow night."
And with the words he was gone. The front door of the house closed
quietly.

Had he come back again? Laura turned in her place on the long divan at
the sound of a heavy tread by the door of the library.

Then an uncertain hand drew the heavy curtain aside. Jadwin, her
husband, stood before her, his eyes sunken deep in his head, his face
dead white, his hand shaking. He stood for a long instant in the middle
of the room, looking at her. Then at last his lips moved:

"Old girl.... Honey."

Laura rose, and all but groped her way towards him, her heart beating,
the tears streaming down her face.

"My husband, my husband!"

Together they made their way to the divan, and sank down upon it side
by side, holding to each other, trembling and fearful, like children in
the night.

"Honey," whispered Jadwin, after a while. "Honey, it's dark, it's dark.
Something happened.... I don't remember," he put his hand uncertainly
to his head, "I can't remember very well; but it's dark--a little."

"It's dark," she repeated, in a low whisper. "It's dark, dark.
Something happened. Yes. I must not remember."

They spoke no further. A long time passed. Pressed close together,
Curtis Jadwin and his wife sat there in the vast, gorgeous room, silent
and trembling, ridden with unnamed fears, groping in the darkness.

And while they remained thus, holding close by one another, a prolonged
and wailing cry rose suddenly from the street, and passed on through
the city under the stars and the wide canopy of the darkness.

"Extra, oh-h-h, extra! All about the Smash of the Great Wheat Corner!
All about the Failure of Curtis Jadwin!"

CONCLUSION

The evening had closed in wet and misty. All day long a chill wind had
blown across the city from off the lake, and by eight o'clock, when
Laura and Jadwin came down to the dismantled library, a heavy rain was
falling.

Laura gave Jadwin her arm as they made their way across the room--their
footsteps echoing strangely from the uncarpeted boards.