oment later, "is, why one
should be given so much and the other so little. To one all the talents
and all your love; and the other unhappy wretch remains an outsider his
whole life long. When you speak in that tone about him, I could wish
with all my heart that he had been no better than I am. It would give
me pleasure to know that he, too, had only been a dabbling amateur--the
victim of a pitiable wish to be what he hadn't the talent for."

He could not face her amazement; he stared at the yellow globe of the
lamp till his eyes smarted.

"It no doubt seems despicable to you," he went on, "but I can't help
it. I hate him for the way he was able to absorb you. He's my worst
enemy, for he has made it impossible for you--the woman I love--to love
me wholly in return.--Of course, you can't--you WON'T understand.
You're only aghast at what you think my littleness. Of all I've gone
through, you know nothing, and don't want to know. But with him, it was
different; you had no difficulty in understanding him. He had the power
over you. Look!--at this very moment, you are siding, not with me, but
with him. All my struggling and striving counts for nothing.--Oh, if I
could only understand you!" He moved to and fro in his agitation. "Why
is a woman so impossible? Does nothing matter to her but tangible
success? Do care and consideration carry no weight? Even matched
against the blackguardly egoism of what you call genius?--Or will you
tell me that he considered you? Didn't he treat you from beginning to
end like the scoundrel he was?"

She raised hostile eyes. "You have no right to say that," she said in a
small, icy voice, which seemed to put him at an infinite distance from
her. "You are not able to judge him. You didn't know him as ... as I
did."

With the last words a deeper note came into her voice, and this was all
Maurice heard. A frenzied fear seized him.

"Louise!" he cried violently. "You care for him still!"

She started, and raised her arms, as if to ward off a blow. "I don't
... I don't ... God knows I don't! I hate him--you know I do!" She had
clapped both hands to her face, and held them there. When she looked up
again, she was able to speak as quietly as before. "But do you want to
make me hate you, too? Do you think it gives me a higher opinion of
you, to hear you talk like that about some one I once cared for? How
can I find it anything but ungenerous?--Yes, you are right, he WAS
different--in every way. He