glad or to regret it. But he admitted to himself that one
of these days he would be forced to take measures for preserving his
sanity, by somehow dragging the truth from her; better still, by
following her on one of her evening absences, to discover for himself
where she went, and whether what the anonymous writer asserted was
true. If he could only have controlled his brain! The perpetually
repeated circles it drove in--if these could once have been brought to
a stop, all the rest of him infinitely preferred not to know.

Meanwhile, the shadows deepened, and his subconsciousness never ceased
to listen, with an intentness which no whirligigs of thought could
distract, for the sound of her step in the passage. When, at length,
some short time after darkness had set in, he heard her at the door, he
drew a long, sighing breath of relief, as if--though this was unavowed
even to himself--he had been afraid he might listen in vain. And, as
always, when the suspense was over, and she was under the same roof
with him again, he was freed from so intolerable a weight that he was
ready to endure whatever she might choose to put upon him, and for his
part to make no demands.

Louise entered languidly; and so skilled had he grown at interpreting
her moods that he knew from her very walk which of them she was in. He
looked surreptitiously at her, and saw that she was wan and tired. It
had been a mild, enervating day; her hair was blown rough about her
face. He watched her before the mirror take off hat and veil, with
slow, yet impatient fingers; watched her hands in her hair, which she
did not trouble to rearrange, but only smoothed back on either side.

She had not, even in entering, cast a glance at him, and, recognising
the rasped state of her nerves, he had the intent to be cautious. But
his resolutions, however good, were not long proof against her
over-emphasised neglect of his 'presence. Her wilful preoccupation with
herself, and with inanimate objects, exasperated him. Everything was of
more worth to her than he was' and she delighted to show it.

"Haven't you a word for me? Don't you see I'm here?" he asked at length.

Even now she did not look towards him as she answered:

"Of course, I see you. But shall I speak next to the furniture of the
room?"

"So!--That's what I am, is it?--A piece of your furniture!"

"Yes.--No, worse. Furniture is silent."

She was changing her walking-dress for the dressing-gown. This don