no umbrella and the moisture
quickly penetrated her thin spring dress. She was still half a mile from
her destination, and she decided to walk across to Madison Avenue and
take the electric car. As she turned into the side street, a vague memory
stirred in her. The row of budding trees, the new brick and limestone
house-fronts, the Georgian flat-house with flowerboxes on its balconies,
were merged together into the setting of a familiar scene. It was down
this street that she had walked with Selden, that September day two years
ago; a few yards ahead was the doorway they had entered together. The
recollection loosened a throng of benumbed sensations--longings, regrets,
imaginings, the throbbing brood of the only spring her heart had ever
known. It was strange to find herself passing his house on such an
errand. She seemed suddenly to see her action as he would see it--and the
fact of his own connection with it, the fact that, to attain her end, she
must trade on his name, and profit by a secret of his past, chilled her
blood with shame. What a long way she had travelled since the day of
their first talk together! Even then her feet had been set in the path
she was now following--even then she had resisted the hand he had held
out.

All her resentment of his fancied coldness was swept away in this
overwhelming rush of recollection. Twice he had been ready to help
her--to help her by loving her, as he had said--and if, the third time,
he had seemed to fail her, whom but herself could she accuse? . . .
Well, that part of her life was over; she did not know why her thoughts
still clung to it. But the sudden longing to see him remained; it grew to
hunger as she paused on the pavement opposite his door. The street was
dark and empty, swept by the rain. She had a vision of his quiet room, of
the bookshelves, and the fire on the hearth. She looked up and saw a
light in his window; then she crossed the street and entered the house.

Chapter 12

The library looked as she had pictured it. The green-shaded lamps made
tranquil circles of light in the gathering dusk, a little fire flickered
on the hearth, and Selden's easy-chair, which stood near it, had been
pushed aside when he rose to admit her.

He had checked his first movement of surprise, and stood silent, waiting
for her to speak, while she paused a moment on the threshold, assailed by
a rush of memories.

The scene was unchanged. She recognized the row of shelves