re were within her tremendous activities
of which she was scarcely conscious. She was like a woman who wakes at
night without knowing why, and hears afterwards that there was a tumult
in the city where she dwelt.

Gradually, along devious ways, she came to the thought that life had
done with her. It seemed to her that life said to her, "Woman, what
have I to do with thee?" The man who had sworn to protect her could
not endure to look at her. The man who had vowed that he loved her soul
shrank before her face. She had never been a friend to women. Why should
they wish to be her friends now? They would not wish it. And if they did
she felt their friendship would be useless to her, more--horrible. She
would rather have shown her shattered face to a thousand men than to ten
women. She had never "bothered" much about religion. No God seemed near
her now. She had no sense of being chastened because she was loved. On
the other hand, she did feel as if she had been caught by a torturer who
did not mean to let her go.

It became obvious to her that there was no place for her in life, and
presently she returned to the conclusion that, totally unloved, she
could not continue to exist.

She began definitely to contemplate self-destruction.

She looked at the little arrow of light beyond the boat's prow. Like
that little arrow she must go out into the darkness. When? Could she go
to-night? If not, probably she could never go at all by her own will and
act. It should be done to-night then, abruptly, without much thought.
For thought is dangerous and often paralysing.

She spoke to the boat boy. He answered. They fell into conversation.
She asked him about his family, his life, whether he would have to be
a soldier; whether he had a sweetheart. She forced herself to listen
attentively to his replies. He was a responsive boy and soon began to
talk volubly, letting the oars trail idly in the water. With energy he
paraded his joyous youth before her. Even in his touches of melancholy
there was hope. His happiness confirmed her in her resolution. She put
herself in contrast with this boy, and her heart sank below the sources
of tears into a dry place, like the valley of bones.

"Will you turn towards Casa Feli--towards the house now," she said
presently.

The boat swung round, and instantly the boy began to sing.

"Yes, I can do it to-night," she thought.

His happy singing entered like iron into her soul.

When the pale facad