nder is that Anson, poor devil! did not do it." I knew I was
talking foolishly.

"He hadn't the courage, my dear sir. He was gentlemanly enough to die,
but not to be heroic to that extent. For it does need a strong dash of
heroism to take one's own life. As I conceive it, suicide would have
been the best thing for him when he sinned against the code. The world
would have pitied him then, would have said, He spared us the trial of
punishing him. But to pay the vulgar penalty of prison--ah!"

She shuddered and then almost coldly continued: "Suicide is an act of
importance; it shows that a man recognises, at least, the worthlessness
of his life. He does one dramatic and powerful thing; he has an instant
of great courage, and all is over. If it had been a duel in which, of
intention, he would fire wide, and his assailant would fire to kill, so
much the better; so much the more would the world pity. But either
is superior, as a final situation, than death with a broken heart--I
suppose that is possible?--and disgrace, in a hospital."

"You seem to think only of the present, only of the code and the world;
and as if there were no heroism in a man living down his shame, righting
himself heroically at all points possible, bearing his penalty, and
showing the courage of daily wearing the sackcloth of remorse and
restitution."

"Oh," she persisted, "you make me angry. I know what you wish to
express; I know that you consider it a sin to take one's life, even in
'the high Roman fashion.' But, frankly, I do not, and I fear--or rather,
I fancy--that I never shall. After all, your belief is a pitiless one;
for, as I have tried to say, the man has not himself alone to consider,
but those to whom his living is a perpetual shame and menace and cruelty
insupportable--insupportable! Now, please, let us change the subject
finally; and"--here she softly laughed--"forgive me if I have treated
your fancied infatuation lightly or indifferently. I want you for a
friend--at least, for a friendly acquaintance. I do not want you for a
lover."

We both rose. I was not quite content with her nor with myself yet. I
felt sure that while she did not wish me for a lover, she was not averse
to my playing the devoted cavalier, who should give all, while she
should give nothing. I knew that my punishment had already begun.
We paced the deck in silence; and once, as we walked far aft, I saw,
leaning upon the railing of the intermediate deck, and lookin