ed, in a very mild voice, that he did not mean anything that
might irritate me.

I said, "Speed, don't mind my temper; I can't seem to help it any
more; something has changed me, something has gone wrong."

"Perhaps something has gone right," he mused, looking up at the
flying trapeze, where Jacqueline swung dangling above the tank,
watching us with sea-blue eyes.

After a moment's thought I said: "Speed, what the devil do you mean
by that remark?"

"Now you're angry again," he said, wearily.

"No, I'm not. Tell me what you mean."

"Oh, what do you imagine I mean?" he retorted. "Do you think I'm
blind? Do you suppose I've watched you all these years and don't know
you? Am I an ass, Scarlett? Be fair; am I?"

"No; not an ass," I said.

"Then let me alone--unless you want plain speaking instead of a
bray."

"I do want it."

"Which?"

"You know; go on."

"Am I to tell you the truth?"

"As you interpret it--yes."

"Very well, my friend; then, at your respectful request, I beg to
inform you that you are in love with Madame de Vassart--and have been
for months."

I did not pretend surprise; I knew he was going to say it. Yet it
enraged me that he should think it and say it.

"You are wrong," I said, steadily.

"No, Scarlett; I am right."

"You are wrong," I repeated.

"Don't say that again," he retorted. "If you do not know it, you
ought to. Don't be unfair; don't be cowardly. Face it, man! By Heaven,
you've got to face it some time--here, yonder, abroad, on the ocean,
at home--no matter where, you've got to face it some day and tell
yourself the truth!"

His words hurt me for a moment; then, as I listened, that strange
apathy once more began to creep over me. Was it really the truth he
had told me? Was it? Well--and then? What meaning had it to me?... Of
what help was it?... of what portent?... of what use?... What door did
it unlock? Surely not the door I had closed upon myself so many years
ago!

Something of my thoughts he may have divined as I stood brooding in
the sunny tent, staring listlessly at my own shadow on the floor, for
he laid his hand on my shoulder and said: "Surely, Scarlett, if
happiness can be reborn in Paradise, it can be reborn here. I know
you; I have known you for many years. And in all that time you have
never fallen below my ideal!"

"What are you saying, Speed?" I asked, rousing from my lethargy to
shake his hand from my shoulder.

"The truth. In all these years o