l on her
rock, so like a slender flower! That woman in her room, so like a golden
goddess! Both caught--unexpectedly! What devil-spirit had made him pick
up this picture from the woman's seat? What....

His fingers tightened upon the photograph, ready to tear it into bits.
The cardboard ripped an inch--and he stopped suddenly his impulse to
destroy. The girl was looking at him again from out of the
picture--looking at him with clear, wide eyes, surprised at his
weakness, startled by the fierceness of his assault upon her, wondering,
amazed, questioning him! For the first time he saw what he had missed
before--that _questioning_ in her eyes. It was as if she were on the
point of asking him something--as if her voice had just come from
between her parted lips, or were about to come. And for _him;_ that was
it--for _him!_

His fingers relaxed. He smoothed down the torn edge of the cardboard, as
if it had been a wound in his own flesh. After all, this inanimate thing
was very much like himself. It was lost, a thing out of place, and out
of home; a wanderer from now on depending largely, like himself, on the
charity of fate. Almost gently he returned it to its newspaper wrapping.
Deep within him there was a sentiment which made him cherish little
things which had belonged to the past--a baby's shoe, a faded ribbon, a
withered flower that _she_ had worn on the night they were married; and
memories--memories that he might better have let droop and die.
Something of this spirit was in the touch of his fingers as he placed
the photograph on the table.

He finished undressing quietly. Before he turned in he placed a hand on
his head. It was hot, feverish. This was not unusual, and it did not
alarm him. Quite often of late these hot and feverish spells had come
upon him, nearly always at night. Usually they were followed the next
day by a terrific headache. More and more frequently they had been
warning him how nearly down and out he was, and he knew what to expect.
He put out his light and stretched himself between the warm blankets of
his bed, knowing that he was about to begin again the fight he
dreaded--the struggle that always came at night with the demon that
lived within him, the demon that was feeding on his life as a leech
feeds on blood, the demon that was killing him inch by inch. Nerves
altogether unstrung! Nerves frayed and broken until they were bleeding!
Worry--emptiness of heart and soul--a world turned black! A