word, in an envelope inscribed with his name, laid the two letters side
by side on her desk. After that she continued to sit at the table,
sorting her papers and writing, till the intense silence of the house
reminded her of the lateness of the hour. In the street the noise of
wheels had ceased, and the rumble of the "elevated" came only at long
intervals through the deep unnatural hush. In the mysterious nocturnal
separation from all outward signs of life, she felt herself more
strangely confronted with her fate. The sensation made her brain reel,
and she tried to shut out consciousness by pressing her hands against her
eyes. But the terrible silence and emptiness seemed to symbolize her
future--she felt as though the house, the street, the world were all
empty, and she alone left sentient in a lifeless universe.

But this was the verge of delirium . . . she had never hung so near the
dizzy brink of the unreal. Sleep was what she wanted--she remembered that
she had not closed her eyes for two nights. The little bottle was at her
bed-side, waiting to lay its spell upon her. She rose and undressed
hastily, hungering now for the touch of her pillow. She felt so
profoundly tired that she thought she must fall asleep at once; but as
soon as she had lain down every nerve started once more into separate
wakefulness. It was as though a great blaze of electric light had been
turned on in her head, and her poor little anguished self shrank and
cowered in it, without knowing where to take refuge.

She had not imagined that such a multiplication of wakefulness was
possible: her whole past was reenacting itself at a hundred different
points of consciousness. Where was the drug that could still this legion
of insurgent nerves? The sense of exhaustion would have been sweet
compared to this shrill beat of activities; but weariness had dropped
from her as though some cruel stimulant had been forced into her veins.

She could bear it--yes, she could bear it; but what strength would be
left her the next day? Perspective had disappeared--the next day pressed
close upon her, and on its heels came the days that were to follow--they
swarmed about her like a shrieking mob. She must shut them out for a few
hours; she must take a brief bath of oblivion. She put out her hand, and
measured the soothing drops into a glass; but as she did so, she knew
they would be powerless against the supernatural lucidity of her brain.
She had long since rai