e sickness of heart.

"You look about done up," she said in friendly fashion. "Come round to
my flat and have a drink. You needn't stay if you don't want to."

He muttered something and passed on. A moment or two later, however, he
retraced his steps. Out of the horror of his thought had come an
irresistible impulse. He slipped some gold into her hand.

"Please take this and go home," he enjoined. "Go home at once! Get out
of the streets and hide yourself."

She stared at him and at the money.

"Why, I've only just come out," she protested. "All the same, I'm dead
tired. I'll go. Walk with me, won't you? You look as if you wanted
looking after."

"I'm all right," he answered. "You go home."

She slipped the money carefully into her purse, and hailed a taxi.

"You shall have your own way," she declared. "Can't I drop you
anywhere?"

He raised his hat, and, once more swinging around, passed on his way.
Presently he found himself in the street where Louise lived. He looked
at his watch--it was twenty minutes to three o'clock.

The house was in solemn darkness. He stood and looked up at it. There
was no sign of a light, not even from the top windows. Its silence
seemed to him more than the silence of sleep. He found himself wondering
whether it was really inhabited, whether there were really human souls
in this quiet corner, waiting peacefully for the dawn, heedless of the
torment which was tearing his soul to pieces. Perhaps, behind that drawn
blind, Louise herself was awake. Perhaps she was thinking, looking back
into the past, wondering about the future. He took a step toward the
gate.

"Are you going in there, sir?"

He turned quickly around. A policeman had flashed a lantern upon him.
John suddenly became intensely matter-of-fact.

"No," he replied. "It is too late, I am afraid. I see that they have all
gone to bed. Any chance of a taxi about here?"

"Most likely you'll find one at the corner," the policeman pointed out.
"There's a rank there, and one or two of them generally stay late. Very
much obliged, sir."

John had slipped a coin into the man's hand. Then he walked deliberately
away. He found a taxicab and was driven toward the Milan. He let down
both the windows and leaned out. He was conscious of a wild desire to
keep away from his rooms--to spend the night anywhere, anyhow, sooner
than go back to the little apartment where Louise had sat with him only
a few hours ago, and had given herself i