t I see in him--the soul of which
mine is but the reflection--really exist, or have I created an image out
of mere emptiness?" she asked; and even with the thought it seemed to
her that she saw a new seriousness--a profounder meaning in his face.
Gerty had never touched the hidden springs, nor had any other woman
except herself, and the knowledge of this gave her an ecstatic
consciousness of power.

When she raised her eyes she saw that he had fallen back into his chair
and was watching her intently with a puzzled and ardent look.

"You won't keep me hanging on for an eternity," he said, with the
nervous contraction of his forehead she knew so well. "If we must go to
the scaffold, let's go at once."

"To the scaffold?" She smiled at him for the purpose of prolonging the
thrill of the uncertainty.

"Oh, I hate marriage, you know," he returned impatiently, "there's not
another woman on earth who could get me into it."

She nodded. "Well, that is to be hoped if not believed."

He made an impulsive movement toward her. "Believe it or not, so long as
you marry me," he exclaimed.

His flippancy grated upon her, and she turned from his words to the
elusive earnestness which mocked at her from his face. If she might only
arrest and hold this earnestness, then surely she might reach the depths
of his nature and be at peace.

"It never seemed possible to me that I should marry a man who has had
another wife," she said, with an emotion which was almost a regret for
the old ideal of conduct from which she had slipped away.

"A wife! Nonsense!" She saw the indignant flash of his eyes and the
nervous quiver of the hand with which he pulled at his short moustache.
Though he did not touch her she felt instinctively that his personality
had been put forth to overmaster her. "She was nothing but a schoolboy's
folly, and I've forgotten that I ever knew her. She's safely married
again now, so for heaven's sake, don't be foolish!"

"And how do you know that in ten years you will not have forgotten me?"
she asked.

For a brief pause he did not reply; then he bent toward her and she hung
for a rapturous instant upon the passionate denial in his face. The look
that she loved and dreaded was in his eyes, and she struggled blindly in
her own helplessness before it. He was so close to her that it seemed as
if the breath were leaving her body in the intensity of the atmosphere
she breathed.

"Forget you, my own sweetheart!" he excla