proud, but not unkind letter, almost
like an ultimatum from one power to another. He had felt some hope in
regard to it for that very reason. When it remained unanswered, he
acknowledged that all was over.

His face had sunk down on the little portfolio, he had closed his
eyes and had given himself up, with a kind of ecstasy, to all these
bitter-sweet memories. The thought that there was any one near him had
passed completely out of his mind, and his dreams began to lapse deeper
and deeper into the haziness that usually precedes unconsciousness.

Suddenly he roused himself with a start. A light hand had touched his
shoulder. As he turned hurriedly, he saw Zenz standing behind him. She
hastily stepped back again as far as the threshold of the door, which
she had softly opened, and stood there in the frame thus made in the
exact attitude of Jansen's "Dancing Girl," her arms thrown back and
holding, instead of the tambourine, the little plate on which Felix had
handed her the wine. The candle-light that streamed in from the
sitting-room, and the little lamp by the side of Felix's bed, doubly
illuminated the slim, youthful figure, and its shadow flickering back
and forth heightened the weird charm. She stood there with her profile
slightly turned upward, motionless as a statue, gazing straight before
her. It was not until quite a time had elapsed, and she had begun to
feel tired, that she asked, still without turning her head, whether he
was not going to begin to sketch? He rose and took a step toward her,
and then stood still again.

"My dear child," he said, controlling himself with difficulty, "it is
too late for that. The night has grown cool--you will catch cold. Come,
I thank you very much. You are a beautiful girl, and I--am not made of
stone. Now go back and go to sleep. To-morrow--tomorrow we will
sketch."

She gave a start, and he noticed with amazement that she began to
tremble violently. She gave but one timid glance at him. Suddenly, the
tears streamed from her eyes, she threw down the plate with such force
that it shivered into fragments, rushed back from the threshold into
the sitting-room and violently slammed the door behind her.

An instant after, he heard the bolt pushed to.

"For God's sake, child!" he cried, "what has come to you all of a
sudden? What have I done to offend you? Open the door, and let us have
a sensible talk together. Didn't I tell you that I had a headache? And
who ever heard of