Olga repeated to herself
slowly.

Just then the shadow of Millar, as he passed in front of one of the
garden lamps, was thrown against the white wall of the room, and she
could hear distinctly his cynical chuckle. With a cry of horror she
raised herself to her full height, put out her hands to ward off the
evil spell, and shrieked:

"No! no! no!"

Then she sank fainting on the floor. For a moment the shadow lingered
above her, and faded.

When Karl left the home of Herman and Olga to conduct Elsa and her aunt
to their carriage he did not return. He was deeply ashamed of the
suspicion he had entertained, and humiliated at the trick played upon
his overheated imagination by Millar. He could not bear to face Olga or
his tormentor.

Sending the servant back for his overcoat and hat, he plunged along
through the snow, walking briskly. Old Heinrich had gone to bed when he
reached the studio. There remained but a few hours of the night, but
Karl could not bring himself to sleep. He paced restlessly up and down
the studio, his mind tortured by the thoughts so skilfully implanted
there by Millar.

He was not surprised when the door bell rang and it was Millar whom he
admitted. His strange visitor shook the snow from his great fur coat and
laid it aside. Then he walked over to the grate where the fire burned
cheerfully and stood in front of it, rubbing his hands as he held them
out to the blaze.

Karl resumed his restless march up and down the room. Millar watched
him cynically for a few moments.

"You seem nervous this morning, Karl," he said.

"I am nervous; I'm crazy," Karl answered.

"You ought to be very happy," Millar insinuated.

"Ought to be happy! I ought to be miserable--as I am, but it is all
through your evil machinations. You have made me reveal all that is evil
in me to the woman----"

"To the woman you love?"

"Yes, to the woman I love and have no right to love; to the woman whose
honor I have held sacred for six years; to the woman I must never see
again."

"You will see her again," Millar asserted quietly.

"How base she must think me," Karl went on wildly. "I did not know
myself; I did not dream that I could be so rotten."

"You will see her again," Millar repeated. "She will come to you of her
own free will here, in this very studio, to-day, and she will tell you
with her lips on yours that she loves you."

"Stop! I won't listen to your infernal insinuations. You have ruined my
happine