spered Lewis, "why didn't you go?"

"H lne unlocked her hands, put them on the lounge at her sides, and
stayed herself on them. She stared at the floor.

"We didn't go," she said, "because of the terrible things that
love--bitter love--had done to us."

She turned luminous eyes toward Lewis.

"You say you love Folly; you think she loves you. Lew, perhaps, she _is_
your pal to-day. Will she be your pal always? You know what a pal is.
You've told me about that little girl Natalie. A pal is one who can't do
wrong, who can't go wrong, who can't grow wrong. Your pal is you--your
blood, your body, your soul. Is Folly your blood, your body, your soul?
If she is, she'll grow finer and finer and you will, too, and years and
time and place will fade away before the greatest battle-cry the world
has ever known--'We're partners.'"

H lne turned her eyes away.

"But if you're not really pals for always, the one that doesn't care
will grow coarse. If it's Folly, her past will seize upon her. She'll
run from your condemning eyes, but you--you can't run from your own
soul.

"Lew, I know. I'm awake. Every woman has a right to an awakening, but
most of them by good fortune miss it. There's one in ten that doesn't. I
didn't. The tenth woman--that's what I'm coming to, and whether it's the
tenth woman or the tenth man, it's all the same in bitter love."

H lne's eyes took on the far-away look that blots out the present
world, and clothes a distant vision in flesh and blood.

"You saw what you saw to-day," she went on in a voice so low that Lewis
leaned forward to catch her words. "Remember that, and then listen. The
love that comes to youth is like the dawn of day. There is no
resplendent dawn without a sun, nor does the flower of a woman's soul
open to a lesser light. The tenth woman," she repeated, "the one woman.
To her awakening comes with a man, not through him. He is part of the
dawn of life, and though clouds may later hide his shining face, her
heart remembers forever the glory of the morning."

The tears welled from her eyes unheeded. Lewis leaped forward with a
cry.

"H lne! H lne!"

She held him off.

"Don't touch me!" she gasped. "I only wanted you to see the whole burden
of love. Now go, dear. Please go. I'm--I'm very tired."

CHAPTER XL

Lewis, walking rapidly toward the flat, was thinking over all that Lady
Derl had said and was trying to bring Folly into line with his thoughts.
He had never pictu