auty so responsive, so affectionate and helpful and withal
so thoughtful. She was somewhat like a delightful toy to him, and he
held her as reverently in awe as though she were a priceless vase.

"You know I want to think what I'm doing. I have to. It seems so
terrible to me at times and yet you know, you know----"

"I know what?" he asked, when she paused.

"I don't know why I shouldn't if I want to--if I love you."

Eugene looked at her curiously. This attempt at analysis of life,
particularly in relation to so trying and daring a situation as this,
astonished him. He had fancied Suzanne more or less thoughtless and
harmless as yet, big potentially, but uncertain and vague. Here she was
thinking about this most difficult problem almost more directly than he
was and apparently with more courage. He was astounded, but more than
that, intensely interested. What had become of her terrific fright of
ten days before? What was it she was thinking about exactly?

"What a curious girl you are," he said.

"Why am I?" she asked.

"Because you are. I didn't think you could think so keenly yet. I
thought you would some day. But, how have you reasoned this out?"

"Did you ever read 'Anna Karenina'?" she asked him meditatively.

"Yes," he said, wondering that she should have read it at her age.

"What did you think of that?"

"Oh, it shows what happens, as a rule, when you fly in the face of
convention," he said easily, wondering at the ability of her brain.

"Do you think things must happen that way?"

"No, I don't think they must happen that way. There are lots of cases
where people do go against the conventions and succeed. I don't know. It
appears to be all a matter of time and chance. Some do and some don't.
If you are strong enough or clever enough to 'get away with it,' as they
say, you will. If you aren't, you won't. What makes you ask?"

"Well," she said, pausing, her lips parted, her eyes fixed on the floor,
"I was thinking that it needn't necessarily be like that, do you think?
It could be different?"

"Yes, it could be," he said thoughtfully, wondering if it really could.

"Because if it couldn't," she went on, "the price would be too high. It
isn't worth while."

"You mean, you mean," he said, looking at her, "that you would." He was
thinking that she was deliberately contemplating making a sacrifice of
herself for him. Something in her thoughtful, self-debating, meditative
manner made him think so.