Such women
were all opinions; there was no softness, no feeling, no delicacy about
them. Skeletons with no flesh! As for Lucy, she had no fear. If even
the child had loved George, she would have cast out every thought of
him on his wedding day, as a Christian girl should do!

She passed Lucy at that moment. She was leaning against one of the
huge stone lions which crouch in front of the church, listening to Mr.
Perry. If ever a pure soul looked into the world it was through those
limpid eyes!

The Platz was nearly empty. One or two men in blouses clattered across
the cobblestones and going into the dark church dropped on their knees.
The wind was high, and now and then swept heavy clouds low across the
sunlight space overhead.

Lucy, as Jean had guessed, knew why the man beside her had crossed the
Atlantic, and she had decided last night to end the matter at once.
The tears had stood in her eyes for pity at the thought of the pain she
must give him. Yet she had put on her new close-fitting coat and a
becoming fur cap, and pulled out the loose hair which she knew at this
moment was blowing about her pink cheeks in curly wisps in a way that
was perfectly maddening. Clara, seeing the mischief in her eyes as she
listened shyly to Perry, went on satisfied. There was no abyss of
black loss in that girl's life!

Lucy just now was concerned only for Perry. How the poor man loved
her! Why not marry him after all, and put him out of his pain? She
was twenty-four. Most women at twenty-four had gone through their
little tragedy of love. But she had had no tragedy. She told herself
firmly that there had been no story of love in her life. There never
could be, now. She was too old.

She was tired, too, and very lonely. This man would seat her on a
throne and worship her every day. That would be pleasant enough.

"I am ashamed of myself," he was saying, "to pursue you in this way.
You have given me no encouragement, I know. But whenever I go to New
York and bone down to work, something tells me to come back and try
again."

Lucy did not answer, and there was a brief silence.

"Of course I'm a fool,"--prodding the ground with his stick. "But if a
man were in a jail cell and knew that the sun was shining just outside,
he'd keep on beating at the wall."

"Your life is not a jail cell. It's very comfortable, I think."

"It has been bare enough. I have had a hard fight to live at all. I
told you that I