d have cursed his grandfather for the cruel cunning to which he had
resorted in the end.

He could not free himself of the ridiculous, distorted and oft-recurring
notion that his grandfather was watching him from beyond the grave, nor
were all his scientific convictions sufficient to dispel the fear that men
live after death and govern the destinies of those who remain.

But through all of these vain struggles, his love for Anne grew stronger,
more overpowering. He was hollow-eyed and gaunt, ravenous with the hunger
of love. A spectre of his former self, he watched himself starve with
sustenance at hand. Bountiful love lay within his grasp and yet he
starved. Full, rich pastures spread out before him wherein he could roam
to the end of his days, blissfully gorging himself,--and yet he starved.
And Anne, who dwelt in those elysian pastures, was starving too!

Once more he wavered and again he fell. He found himself at midnight
standing at the corner above Anne's home, staring at the darkened
unresponsive windows. Three nights passed before he resumed the hateful
vigil. This time there were lights. And from that time on, he went almost
nightly to the neighbourhood of Washington Square, regardless of weather
or inconvenience. He saw her come and go, night after night, and he saw
people enter the house to which he held a key,--always he saw from obscure
points of vantage and with the stealth and caution of a malefactor.

He came to realise in course of time that she was not at peace with
herself, notwithstanding a certain assumption of spiritedness with which
she fared into the world with others. At first he was deceived by
appearances, but later on he knew that she was not the happy, interested
creature she affected to be when adventuring forth in search of pleasure.
He observed that she tripped lightly down the steps on leaving the house,
and that she ascended them slowly, wearily, almost reluctantly on her
return, far in the night. He invariably waited for the lights to appear in
the shaded windows of her room upstairs, and then he would hurry away as
if pursued. Once, after roaming the streets for two hours following her
return to the house, he wended his way back to the spot from which he had
last gazed at her windows. To his surprise the lights were still burning.
After that he never left the neighbourhood until he saw that the windows
were dark, and more often than otherwise the lights did not go out until
two or t