ul. I haven't anything that she had. Oh, I
know all that ... so well."

He uncovered his face--it was haggard and bloodless, the face of a man
in the throes of a mental hell--and looked at her, almost with
revulsion.

"You?" he cried harshly. "You...? You dare to name yourself to me in
the same breath with her? Get up, and look at yourself!" He pointed to a
cracked mirror on the mantel-piece. "Look!" he said hoarsely, thrusting
her away from him again. "Do you see how coarse and heavy and rough you
are? She was light and delicate--like a snowflake. She never seemed to
touch the ground. Your hair is like string--your hands are large--your
voice is harsh. Her hair was like silk--gold silk in the sunshine. I
could see through her hands. Her voice was music. I want you to go. You
are in my way."

She sprang up, raging.

"She never loved you!" she cried. "She never cared for you--or even
thought of you! She wasn't fit to touch you--to look at you!"

His face was aflame.

"Stop!" he shouted.

"I hate her!" she declared fiercely. "I hate her memory! I'm glad she's
dead!"

He lunged forward from his chair, and seized her. In his fury he nearly
struck her.

"As God's above us," he panted, "one more word...." His rage choked him.
The words jammed in his throat.

She wrenched herself free. His arms dropped to his sides. He reeled
dizzily.

"You may do what you like to me," she cried passionately. "I tell
you--I'm glad she's dead! She deserved to die. She was wicked and cruel.
I think God Himself destroyed her."

He sank back into his chair weakly. A sob shook him.

"God did not destroy her," he said slowly. "God never destroys. He only
builds. It is men and women who destroy."

There was a long silence. She came close to him again, all her anger
swallowed up in a great sympathy.

"Jim," she asked softly ... "was she so much to you?"

He became suddenly rigid.

"How did you come to know her? She wasn't your sort. She couldn't have
had anything in common with you. What have you to do with women like
that?"

His eyes narrowed threateningly. Her questions had struck him into a new
alertness. She noticed that his knees were pressed together.

"The papers said she only came to England two months ago--for the first
time. It hasn't all happened since then. I know it hasn't. There must
have been something else. Something before. What was it?"

He sat glaring at her--locking and unlocking his hands.

"It all ha