Frederick asked Willy to help him find a boarding
house where he and Ingigerd could live, or Ingigerd could live alone
without his protection.

"You must realise," Frederick explained, "that no matter how unprejudiced
you and your friends may be, it won't do to let a young lady remain
permanently in a bachelors' club-house."

Willy did realise the impropriety of the situation; and that very same
evening he found an excellent place for her with friends on Fifth Avenue.

The next morning, after the men had left the house, Frederick again fell
under the spell of a strange excitement that led him to Ingigerd's room.
This time, however, it was not a wave of passion, but a storm of desire
for self-purification.

"Ingigerd," he said, "fate has brought us together. I am sure you, too,
feel that in spite of all the appalling events we underwent, something
like predestination was at work." Frederick now told her, as he had fully
planned to do, the story of his past. It was a complete confession. He
spoke of his youth and marriage, spoke with all possible forbearance and
love of his wife. "There was no hope for her ever getting well again.
I have nothing to reproach myself with in regard to her, except that I
was a man merely of good intentions and imperfect achievement. But I may
not have been the right husband for her in so far as I could not give
her the repose of spirit that she needed and I myself lacked. When the
collapse finally occurred and other misfortunes--they seldom come
singly--and in addition I suffered disappointments outside my family
life, I had great difficulty in bearing up. I hate to speak of it, but it
is the truth--before I saw you, I picked up a revolver more than once for
a very definite purpose. Life weighed upon me like lead. It had turned
stale and tasteless. The sight of you, Ingigerd, and, strange to say, the
wreck, which I experienced not only symbolically but in actuality, taught
me to value life again. You and bare existence--the two things
I saved from the wreck. Once more I stand on terra firma. I love the
soil. I should like to fondle it. But I am not yet secure, Ingigerd. I am
still sore, without and within, you know. You have suffered a loss, I
have suffered a loss. We have beheld the other side of existence, the
unforgettable gloom. We have looked into the pit. Ingigerd, shall we
cling to each other? Will you come to a man torn and distracted, lashed
by scorpions, to a man who is greedy t