ing, and we returned together. He told me, I
think, everything--except about your father. He forgot that, if he knew.
Do you doubt I know the reason, Elice?"

Out of the shadow came the girl's face,--the face only.

"You did this for Stephen Armstrong--after what is past! Why?"

"Because life is short and I wanted to know several things before I came
to-night. Would you like to hear what it was I wished to learn?"

Again the face vanished.

"Yes," said a voice.

"You know already, so it won't be news. One was that he still cares for
you--as always. He perjured himself once, because he thought it was his
duty; but he has never ceased to care. The other thing was that he's
changed his mind and is going back to his literary work. His novel, that
was accepted tentatively, will be published next Winter. What else I
learned is immaterial. I don't often venture a prediction, but in his
case I'll make the exception. I believe that this time he'll make good.
He has the incentive--and experience. Do you still doubt I know the
reason, Elice?"

"No. But that you should tell me this!"

"I claim no virtue. You knew it already. I'm merely attempting to
simplify--to aid the coming of the light."

For the second time out of the shadow came the girl's face, her whole
figure. "Darley Roberts," asked a voice, "are you human, or aren't you? I
don't believe another man in the world would, under like circumstances,
do as you have done by Steve Armstrong. I can't believe you human
merely."

The man smiled oddly; the look passed.

"I have merely played the game fair," he explained dispassionately, "or
tried to, according to my standard. Like yourself, I don't want to hate
myself in the future, whatever comes. The hate of others--I'm indifferent
to that, Elice."

"And still you love me."

"I shall never care for another, never. The time when I could, if it ever
existed, is past."

The white hands dropped helplessly into the girl's lap.

"I thought I understood you," she said, "and yet, after all--"

"We live but once," gently. "I wish you to be happy, the happiest
possible. Does that help?"

"Yes, but--" In a panic the face, the hands, retreated back into the
shadow again. "Oh, I'm afraid of you once more, afraid of you," she
completed.

A moment the man sat still; then came his unexpected deliberate smile.

"No; not afraid. I repeat you know me absolutely, and we're never afraid
of things we know. I explained once befor