led
his soul.

He longed at last to hear her voice. He did not dare to hear his own;
something in it would have broken and revealed him to her; but if she
would but speak the nightmare might pass. And, with the longing,
furtively, involuntarily, he glanced round at her.

Her eyes were on him, fixed, shining. How horrible;--how ridiculous.
Their gaze smote upon his heart and shattered something,--the nightmare,
or the repulsion. An hysterical sob and laugh rose in his throat. He
dropped the review, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, his head
in his hands, and the tears ran down his face.

She was there, of course, poor creature, there, close, holding him,
moaning, weeping with him. He could do nothing but yield to her arms,
feel his head pillowed on her breast, and mingle his tears with hers;
but horribly, ridiculously, he knew that laughter as well as weeping
shook him.

And he heard her saying "Oh, my darling--my darling--is it because you
must leave me?"--and heard himself answering "Yes, because I must leave
you."

"You love me--so much--so much----"

"So much," he echoed.

And, her voice rising to a cry, he knew how dead, as if sounded from the
cavern, his echo had been: "You are not dying! Not now!" And it was
again only the echo he could give her: "Not now," it came. Why not now?
Why could it not be, mercifully now? When in heaven's name was he going
to die?

A strong suspicion rose in him and seemed to pulse into life with the
strong beat of his heart. How strong a beat it was; how faint and far
any whispers of the old ill. What if he were not going to die? What if
he were to go on loving Kitty for a lifetime?

And at that the mere hysterics conquered the tears; he burst out
laughing. There, on Kitty's breast, he laughed and laughed, helpless,
cruel and ridiculous.

Terrified, she tried to still him. When he lifted his face he saw that
hers was ashen, set to meet the tragedy of imminent parting. Did she
think it the death rattle?

He flung his head back from her kisses, flung himself back from her
arms. Still laughing the convulsive laugh he got up and pushed away the
chair.

"I'm tired--I'm so tired, Kitty," he said.

She sat, her hands fallen in her lap, staring at him.

"You are tired, too," he went on; "it's been a tiring day, hasn't
it?--we have been through a lot, haven't we, poor Kitty? Poor Kitty:--do
go to bed now. Will you go to bed, and leave me here to rest a little?"

"Ni