on a look of longing, of yearning. Her whole attitude was one of
appeal. She was a woman who could no longer keep to herself the heart
sickness she was suffering.

"Yes, yes, I am sick. It's not bodily though, sure, sure. Oh,
sometimes I think my heart will break, only--only I suppose that's not
possible," she added whimsically. "Ah, Annie, you've got a good man.
You love him, and he loves you. No hardship would be a trouble to you,
because you've got him. I haven't got my man, and," she added in a low
voice, "I don't want him. That's it! Stare, child! Stare and stare.
You're horrified--and so am I. But I don't want him. I don't! I don't!
I don't! I hate him. I loathe him. Say it, Annie. You must think it.
Every right-minded woman must think it. I'm awful. I'm wicked.
I----!"

She broke off on the verge of hysteria and struggled for calmness.
Annie sensibly kept silent, and presently the distracted woman
recovered herself.

"I won't say anything like that again, dear. I mustn't, but--but I had
to say it to some one. You don't know what it is to keep all that on
your mind and not be able to tell any one. But it's out now, and I--I
feel better, perhaps."

Annie came to her side and placed her arm about her waist. Her action
was all sympathy.

"I came here to listen," she said kindly. "I knew there was things
troublin'. You can tell me anything--or nothing. And, Eve, you'll sure
get my meanin' when I say the good God gave me two eyes to use, an'
sometimes to sleep with. Well, dear, I mostly sleep at nights."

Eve tried to smile, but it was a failure.

"You're a good woman, Annie, and--and I don't know how I'd have got on
all this time without you. But sit you down and listen. I've begun
now, and--and I must go on. Oh, I can't tell you quite why, but I want
to tell it to somebody, and--and--I'll feel better. You said I don't
need to do all this," she hurried on, pointing at the dressmaking. "I
do. It's the only thing that keeps me from running away, and breaking
my marriage vows altogether. Will's got no love for me, and I--my love
for him died weeks ago. Maybe with those sharp eyes of yours you've
seen it."

Annie nodded and Eve went on.

"I'm frightened, Annie, and--and I don't know why. Will's a different
man, but it's not that. No," she added thoughtfully, "somehow I'm not
frightened of him now. I--I hate him too much. But I'm frightened,
and----"

She flung herself upon the worn settee, and lifted a pair