〃Why；　do　you　think；　did　Tetlow　come　to　see　you？〃　he　asked。　　He　felt　cheapened　in　his　own　eyeshe；　the　great　man；　the　arrived　man；　the　fiance　of　Josephine　Burroughs；　engaged　in　this　halting　and　sneaking　flirtation！　But　he　could　not　restrain　himself。
  She　turned　to　answer。　　〃Mr。　Tetlow　works　very　hard　and　has　few　friends。　　He　had　heard　of　my　father　and　wanted　to　meet　himjust　like　you。〃
  〃Naturally；〃　murmured　Norman；　in　confusion。　　〃I　thoughtperhapshe　was　interested　in　YOU。〃
  She　laughed　outrightand　he　had　an　entrancing　view　of　the　clean　rosy　interior　of　her　mouth。　　〃In　ME？　Mr。　Tetlow？　　Why；　he's　too　serious　and　important　for　a　girl　like　me。〃
  〃Then　he　bored　you？〃
  〃Oh；　no。　　I　like　him。　　He　is　a　good　man　thoroughly　good。〃
  This　pleased　Norman　immensely。　　It　may　be　fine　to　be　good；　but　to　be　called　goodthat　is　somehow　a　different　matter。　　It　removes　a　man　at　once　from　the　jealousy…provoking　class。　　〃Good　exactly　describes　him；〃　said　Norman。　　〃He　wouldn't　harm　a　fly。　　In　love　he'd　be　ridiculous。〃
  〃Not　with　a　woman　of　his　own　age　and　kind；〃　protested　she。　　〃But　I'm　neglecting　my　work。〃
  And　she　returned　to　it　with　a　resolute　manner　that　made　him　ashamed　to　interrupt　againespecially　after　the　unconscious　savage　rebukes　she　had　administered。　He　sat　there　fighting　against　the　impulse　to　watch　her　denouncing　himselfappealing　to　pride；　to　shame；　to　prudenceto　his　love　for　Josephineto　the　sense　of　decency　that　restrains　a　hunter　from　aiming　at　a　harmless　tame　song　bird。　　But　all　in　vain。　　He　concentrated　upon　her　at　last；　stared　miserably　at　her；　filled　with　longing　and　dread　and　shameand　longing；　and　yet　more　longing。
  When　she　finished　and　stood　at　the　other　side　of　the　desk；　waiting　for　him　to　pass　upon　her　work；　she　must　have　thought　he　was　in　a　profound　abstraction。　He　did　not　speak；　made　a　slight　motion　with　his　hand　to　indicate　that　she　was　to　go。　　Shut　in　alone；　he　buried　his　face　in　his　arms。　　〃What　madness！〃　he　groaned。　　〃If　I　loved　her；　there'd　be　some　excuse　for　me。　　But　I　don't。　　I　couldn't。　　Yet　I　seem　ready　to　ruin　everything；　merely　to　gratify　a　selfish　whiman　insane　whim。〃
  On　top　of　the　papers　she　had　left　he　saw　a　separate　slip。　　He　drew　it　toward　him；　spread　it　out　before　him。　Her　address。　　An　unknown　street　in　Jersey　City！
  〃I'll　not　go；〃　he　said　aloud；　pushing　the　slip　away。　Go？　　Certainly　not。　　He　had　never　really　meant　to　go。　He　would；　of　course；　keep　his　engagement　with　Josephine。　〃And　I'll　not　come　down　town　until　she　has　taken　another　job　and　has　caught　Tetlow。　　I'll　stop　this　idiocy　of　trying　to　make　an　impression　on　a　person　not　worth　impressing。　　What　weak　vanityto　be　piqued　by　this　girl's　lack　of　interest！〃
  Neverthelesshe　at　six　o'clock　telephoned　to　the　Burroughs'　house　that　he　was　detained　down　town。　　He　sent　away　his　motor；　dined　alone　in　the　station　restaurant　in　Jersey　City。　　And　at　half　past　seven　he　set　out　in　a　cab　in　search　ofwhat？　　He　did　not　dare　answer　that　interrogation。
  VI
  LIFE　many　another　chance　explorer　from　New　York；　Norman　was　surprised　to　discover　that；　within　a　few　minutes　of　leaving　the　railway　station；　his　cab　was　moving　through　a　not　unattractive　city。　　He　expected　to　find　the　Hallowells　in　a　tenement　in　some　more　or　less　squalid　street　overhung　with　railway　smoke　and　bedaubed　with　railway　grime。　　He　was　delighted　when　the　driver　assured　him　that　there　was　no　mistake；　that　the　comfortable　little　cottage　across　the　width　of　the　sidewalk　and　a　small　front　yard　was　the　sought…for　destination。
  〃Wait；　please；〃　he　said　to　the　cabman。　　〃Or；　if　you　like；　you　can　go　to　that　corner　saloon　down　there。　　I'll　know　where　to　find　you。〃　　And　he　gave　him　half　a　dollar。
  The　cabman　hesitated　between　two　theories　of　this　conductwhether　it　was　the　generosity　it　seemed　or　was　a　ruse　to　〃side　step〃　payment。　　Heor　his　thirst　decided　for　the　decency　of　human　nature；　he　drove　confidingly　away。　　Norman　went　up　the　tiny　stoop　and　rang。　　The　sound　of　a　piano；　in　the　room　on　the　ground　floor　where　there　was　light；　abruptly　ceased。　　The　door　opened　and　Miss　Hallowell　stood　before　him。　　She　was　throughout　a　different　person　from　the　girl　of　the　office。　She　had　changed　to　a　tight…fitting　pale…blue　linen　dress　made　all　in　one　piece。　　Norman　could　now　have　not　an　instant's　doubt　about　the　genuineness；　the　bewitching　actuality；　of　her　beauty。　　The　wonder　was　how　she　could　contrive　to　conceal　so　much　of　it　for　the　purposes　of　business。　　It　was　a　peculiar　kind　of　beautynot　the　radiant　kind；　but　that　which　shines　with　a　soft　glow　and　gives　him　who　sees　it　the　delightful　sense　of　being　its　original　and　sole　discoverer。　　An　artistic　eyeor　an　eye　that　discriminates　in　and　responds　to　feminine　lovelinesswould　have　been　captivated；　as　it　searched　in　vain　for　flaw。
  If　Norman　anticipated　that　she　would　be　nervous　before　the　task　of　receiving　in　her　humbleness　so　distinguished　a　visitor；　he　must　have　been　straightway　disappointed。　　Whether　from　a　natural　lack　of　that　sense　of　social　differences　which　is　developed　to　the　most　pitiful　snobbishness　in　New　York　or　from　her　youth　and　inexperience；　she　received　him　as　if　he　had　been　one　of　the　neighbors　dropping　in　after　supper。　　And　it　was　Norman　who　was　ill　at　ease。　　Nothing　is　more　disconcerting　to　a　man　accustomed　to　be　received　with　due　respect　to　his　importance　than　to　find　himself　put　upon　the　common　human　level　and　compelled　to　〃make　good〃　all　over　again　from　the　beginning。　　He　felt　he　knewthat　he　was　an　humble　candidate　for　her　favora　candidate　with　the　chances　perhaps　against　him。
  The　tiny　parlor　had　little　in　it　beside　the　upright　piano　because　there　was　no　space。　　But　the　paper；　the　carpet　and　curtains；　the　few　pieces　of　furniture；　showed　no　evidence　of　bad　taste；　of　painful　failure　at　the　effort　to　〃make　a　front。〃　　He　was　in　the　home　of　poor　people；　but　they　were　obviously　people　who　made　a　highly　satisfactory　best　of　their　poverty。　　And　in　the　midst　of　it　all　the　girl　shone　like　the　one　evening　star　in　the　mystic　opalescence　of　twilight。
  〃We　weren't　sure　you　were　coming；〃　said　she。　　〃I'll　call　father。　。　。　。　　No；　I'll　take　you　back　to　his　workshop。　He's　easier　to　get　acquainted　with　there。〃
  〃Won't　you　play　something　for　me　first？　　Or　perhaps　you　sing？　〃
  〃A　very　little；〃　she　admitted。　　〃Not　worth　hearing。〃
  〃I'm　sure　I'd　like　it。　　I　want　to　get　used　to　my　surroundings　before　I　tackle　thethe　biology。〃
  Without　either　hesitation　or　shyness；　she　seated　herself　at　the　piano。　　〃I'll　sing　the　song　I've　just　learned。〃　And　she　began。　　Norman　moved　to　the　chair　that　gave　him　a　view　of　her　in　profile。　　For　the　next　five　minutes　he　was　witness　to　one　of　those　rare；　altogether　charming　visions　that　linger　in　the　memory　in　freshness　and　fragrance　until　memory　itself　fades　away。　　She　sat　very　straight　at　the　piano；　and　the　position　brought　out　all　the　long　lines　of　her　figurethe　long；　round　white　neck　and　throat；　the　long　back　and　bosom；　the　long　arms　and　legsa　series　of　lovely　curves。　　It　has　been　scientifically　demonstrated　that　pale　blue　is　pre…　eminently　the　sex　color。　　It　certainly　was　pre…eminently　HER　color；　setting　off　each　and　every　one　of　her　charms　and　suggesting　the　roundness　and　softness　and　whiteness　her　drapery　concealed。　　She　was　one　of　those　rare　beings　whose　every　pose　is　instinct　with　grace。　　And　her　voice　　It　was　small；　rather　high；　at　times　almost　shrill。　　But　in　every　note　of　its　register　there　sounded　a　mysterious；　melancholy…sweet　call　to　the　responding　nerves　of　man。
  Before　she　got　halfway　through　the　song　Norman　was　fighting　against　the　same　mad　impulse　that　had　all　but　overwhelmed　him　as　he　watched　her　in　the　afternoon。　And　when　her　last　note　rose；　swelled；　slowly　faded　into　silence；　it　seemed　to　him　that　had　she　kept　on　for　one　note　more　he　would　have　disclosed　to　her　amazed　eyes　the　insanity　raging　within　him。
  She　turned　on　the　piano　stool；　her　hands　dropped　listlessly　in　her　lap。　　〃Aren't　those　words　beautiful？〃　she　said　in　a　dreamy　voice。　　She　was　not　looking　at　him。　　Evidently　she　was　hardly　aware　of　his　presence。
  He　had　not　heard　a　word。　　He　was　in　no　mood　for　mere　words。　　〃I've　never　liked　anything　so　well；〃　he　said。　　And　he　lowered　his　eyes　that　she　might　not　see　what　they　must　be　revealing。
  She　rose。　　He　made　a　gesture　of　protest。　　〃Won't　you　sing　another？〃　he　asked。
  〃Not　after　that；〃　she　said。　　〃It's　the　best　I　know。　It　has　put　me　out　of　the　mood　for　the　ordinary　songs。〃
  〃You　are　a　dreameraren't　you？〃
  〃That's　my　real　life；〃　replied　she。　　〃I　go　through　the　other　part　just　to　get　to　the　dreams。〃
  〃What　do　you　dream？〃
  She　laughed　carelessly。　　〃Oh；　you'd　not　be　interested。　　It　would　seem　foolish　to　you。〃
  〃You're　mistaken　there；〃　cried　he。　　〃The　only　thing　that　ever　has　interested　me　in　life　is　dreams　and　making　them　come　true。〃
  〃But　not　MY　kind　of　dreams。　　The　only　kind　I　like　are　the　ones　that　couldn't　possibly　come　true。〃
  〃There　isn't　any　dream　that　can't　be　made　to　come　true。〃
  She　looked　at　him　eagerly。　　〃You　think　so？〃
  〃The　wildest　ones　are　often　the　easiest。〃　　He　had　a　moving　voice　himself；　and　it　had　been　known　to　affect　listening　ears　hypnotically　when　he　was　deeply　in　earnest；　was　possessed　by　one　of　those　desires　that　conquer　men　of　will　and　then　make　them