〃Yes；　indeed。　　I　feel　quite　different　already。〃
  〃I　hoped　so。　　You　are　coming　to　your　senses？〃
  〃Perhaps。　　Only〃　　She　laid　a　beautiful　white　pleading　hand　upon　his　shoulder　and　gazed　earnestly　into　his　eyes〃please　don't　frighten　me　with　that　talk　and　those　other　kisses。〃
  He　looked　at　her　uncertainly。　　〃Come　round　in　your　own　way；〃　he　said　at　last。　　〃I　don't　want　to　hurry　you。　　I　suppose　every　bird　has　its　own　way　of　dropping　from　a　perch。〃
  〃You　don't　like　my　way？〃　she　inquired。
  It　was　said　archly　but　also　in　the　way　that　always　made　him　vaguely　uneasy；　made　him　feel　like　one　facing　a　mystery　which　should　be　explored　cautiously。　　〃It　is　graceful；〃　he　admitted；　with　a　smile　since　he　could　not　venture　to　frown。　　〃Gracefulbut　slow。〃
  She　laughedand　he　could　not　but　feel　that　the　greater　laughter　in　her　too　innocent　eyes　was　directed　at　him。　　She　talked　of　other　thingsand　he　let　her　charmed；　yet　cursing　his　folly；　his　slavery；　the　while。
  X
  MANY　a　time　he　had　pitied　a　woman　for　letting　him　get　away　from　her；　when　she　obviously　wished　to　hold　him　and　failed　solely　because　she　did　not　understand　her　business。　　Like　every　other　man；　he　no　sooner　began　to　be　attracted　by　a　woman　than　he　began　to　invest　her　with　a　mystery　and　awe　which　she　either　could　dissipate　by　forcing　him　to　see　the　truth　of　her　commonplaceness　or　could　increase　into　a　power　that　would　enslave　him　by　keeping　him　agitated　and　interested　and　ever　satisfied　yet　ever　baffled。　　But　no　woman　had　shown　this　supreme　skill　in　the　art　of　loveuntil　Dorothy　Hallowell。　　She　exasperated　him。　　She　fascinated　him。　She　kept　him　so　restless　that　his　professional　work　was　all　but　neglected。　　Was　it　her　skill？　　Was　it　her　folly？　Was　she　simply　leading　him　on　and　on；　guided　blindly　by　woman's　instinct　to　get　as　much　as　she　could　and　to　give　as　little　as　she　dared？　　Or　was　she　protected　by　a　real　indifference　to　himthe　strongest；　indeed　the　only　invulnerable　armor　a　woman　can　wear？　　Was　she　protecting　herself？　　Or　was　it　merely　that　he；　weakened　by　his　infatuation；　was　doing　the　protecting　for　her？
  Beside　these　distracting　questions；　the　once　all…　important　matter　of　professional　and　worldly　ambition　seemed　not　worth　troubling　about。　　They　even　so　vexed　him　that　he　had　become　profoundly　indifferent　as　to　Josephine。　　He　saw　her　rarely。　　When　they　were　alone　he　either　talked　neutral　subjects　or　sat　almost　mute；　hardly　conscious　of　her　presence。　　He　received　her　efforts　at　the　customary　caressings　with　such　stolidity　that　she　soon　ceased　to　annoy　him。　　They　reduced　their　outward　show　of　affection　to　a　kiss　when　they　met；　another　when　they　separated。　　He　was　tiredalways　tired　worn　outhalf　sickharassed　by　business　concerns。　He　did　not　trouble　himself　about　whether　his　listless　excuses　would　be　accepted　or　not。　　He　did　not　care　what　she　thoughtor　might　thinkor　might　do。
  Josephine　was　typical　of　the　women　of　the　comfortable　class。　　For　them　the　fundamentally　vital　matters　of　lifethe　profoundly　harassing　questions　of　food；　clothing；　and　shelterare　arranged　and　settled。　　What　is　there　left　to　occupy　their　minds？　　Little　but　the　idle　emotions　they　manufacture　and　spread　foglike　over　their　true　natures　to　hide　the　barrenness；　the　monotony。　They　fool　with　phrases　about　art　or　love　or　religion　or　charityfor　none　of　those　things　can　be　vivid　realities　to　those　who　are　swathed　and　stupefied　in　a　luxury　they　have　not　to　take　the　least　thought　to　provide　for　themselves。　　Like　all　those　women；　Josephine　fancied　herself　complexfancied　she　was　a　person　of　variety　and　of　depth　because　she　repeated　with　a　slight　change　of　wording　the　things　she　read　in　clever　books　or　heard　from　clever　men。　　There　seemed　to　Norman　to　be　small　enough　originality；　personality；　to　the　ordinary　man　of　the　comfortable　class；　but　there　was　some；　because　his　necessity　of　struggling　with　and　against　his　fellow　men　in　the　several　arenas　of　active　life　compelled　him　to　be　at　least　a　little　of　a　person。　　In　the　women　there　seemed　nothing　at　allnot　even　in　Josephine。　　When　he　listened　to　her；　when　he　thought　of　her；　nowhe　was　calmly　critical。　　He　judged　her　as　a　human　specimenjudged　much　as　would　have　old　Newton　Hallowell　to　whom　the　whole　world　was　mere　laboratory。
  She　bored　him　nowand　he　made　no　effort　beyond　bare　politeness　to　conceal　the　fact　from　her。　　The　situation　was　saved　from　becoming　intolerable　by　that　universal　saver　of　intolerable　situations；　vanity。　　She　had　the　ordinary　human　vanity。　　In　addition；　she　had　the　peculiar　vanity　of　woman；　the　creation　of　man's　flatteries　lavished　upon　the　sex　he　alternately　serves　and　spurns。　　In　further　addition；　she　had　the　vanity　of　her　classthe　comfortable　class　that　feels　superior　to　the　mass　of　mankind　in　fortune；　in　intellect；　in　taste；　in　everything　desirable。　　Heaped　upon　all　these　vanities　was　her　vanity　of　high　social　rankand　atop　the　whole　her　vanity　of　great　wealth。　　None　but　the　sweetest　and　simplest　of　human　beings　can　stand　up　and　remain　human　under　such　a　weight　as　this。　　If　we　are　at　all　fair　in　our　judgments　of　our　fellow　men；　we　marvel　that　the　triumphant　classespecially　the　women；　whose　point　of　view　is　never　corrected　by　the　experiences　of　practical　lifeare　not　more　arrogant；　more　absurdly　forgetful　of　the　oneness　and　the　feebleness　of　humanity。
  Josephine　was　by　nature　one　of　the　sweet　and　simple　souls。　　And　her　love　for　Norman；　after　the　habit　of　genuine　love；　had　destroyed　all　the　instinct　of　coquetry。　The　womanor；　the　manhas　to　be　indeed　interesting；　indeed　an　individuality；　to　remain　interesting　when　sincerely　in　love；　and　so　elevated　above　the　petty　but　potent　sex　trickeries。　　Josephine；　deeply　in　love；　was　showing　herself　to　Norman　in　her　undisguised　natural　sweet　simplicityand　monotony。　　But；　while　men　admire　and　reverence　a　sweet　and　simple　feminine　soul　and　love　her　in　plays　and　between　the　covers　of　a　book　and　when　she　is　talking　highfaluting　abstractions　of　moralityand　wax　wroth　with　any　other　man　who　ignores　or　neglects　herthey　do　not　in　their　own　persons　become　infatuated　with　her。　　Passion　is　too　much　given　to　moods　for　that；　it　has　a　morbid　craving　for　variety；　for　the　mysterious　and　the　baffling。
  The　only　thing　that　saves　the　race　from　ruin　through　passion　is　the　rarity　of　those　by　nature　or　by　art　expert　in　using　it。　　Norman　felt　that　he　was　paying　the　penalty　for　his　persistent　search　for　this　rarity；　one　of　the　basest　tricks　of　destiny　upon　man　is　to　give　him　what　he　wantswealth；　or　fame；　or　power；　or　the　wom…　an　who　enslaves。　　Norman　felt　that　destiny　had　suddenly　revealed　its　resolve　to　destroy　him　by　giving　him　not　one　of　the　things　he　wanted；　but　all。
  The　marriage　was　not　quite　two　weeks　away。　　About　the　time　that　the　ordinary　plausible　excuses　for　Norman's　neglect；　his　abstraction；　his　seeming　indifference　were　exhausted；　Josephine's　vanity　came　forward　to　explain　everything　to　her；　all　to　her　own　glory。　　As　the　elysian　hour　approachedso　vanity　assured　herthe　man　who　loved　her　as　her　complex　soul　and　many　physical　and　social　advantages　deserved　was　overcome　with　that　shy　terror　of　which　she　had　read　in　the　poets　and　the　novelists。　　A　large　income；　fashionable　attire　and　surroundings；　a　carriage　and　a　maidthese　things　gave　a　woman　a　subtle　and　superior　intellect　and　soul。　　How？　Why？　　No　one　knew。　　But　everyone　admitted；　indeed　saw；　the　truth。　　Further；　these　beingsthese　great　ladiesaccording　to　all　the　accredited　poets；　novelists；　and　other　final　authorities　upon　lifealways　inspired　the　most　awed　and　worshipful　and　diffident　feelings　in　their　lovers。　　Therefore；　shethe　great　ladywas　getting　but　her　due。　　She　would　have　liked　something　else　something　common　and　humanmuch　better。　　But；　having　always　led　her　life　as　the　conventions　dictated；　never　as　the　common　human　heart　yearned；　she　had　no　keen　sense　of　dissatisfaction　to　rouse　her　to　revolt　and　to　question。　　Also；　she　was　breathlessly　busy　with　trousseau　and　the　other　arrangements　for　the　grand　wedding。
  One　afternoon　she　telephoned　Norman　asking　him　to　come　on　his　way　home　that　evening。　　〃I　particularly　wish　to　see　you；〃　she　said。　　He　thought　her　voice　sounded　rather　queer；　but　he　did　not　take　sufficient　interest　to　speculate　about　it。　　When　he　was　with　her　in　the　small　drawing　room　on　the　second　floor；　he　noted　that　her　eyes　were　regarding　him　strangely。　　He　thought　he　understood　why　when　she　said：
  〃Aren't　you　going　to　kiss　me；　Fred？〃
  He　put　on　his　good…natured；　slightly　mocking　smile。　〃I　thought　you　were　too　busy　for　that　sort　of　thing　nowadays。〃　　And　he　bent　and　kissed　her　waiting　lips。　Then　he　lit　a　cigarette　and　seated　himself　on　the　sofa　beside　herthe　sofa　at　right　angles　to　the　open　fire。　〃Well？〃　he　said。
  She　gazed　into　the　fire　for　full　a　minute　before　she　said　in　a　voice　of　constraint；　〃What　became　of　that　that　girlthe　Miss　Hallowell〃
  She　broke　off　abruptly。　　There　was　a　pause　choked　with　those　dizzy　pulsations　that　fill　moments　of　silence　and　strain。　　Then　with　a　sob　she　flung　herself　against　his　breast　and　buried　her　face　in　his　shoulder。　　〃Don't　answer！〃　she　cried。　　〃I'm　ashamed　of　myself。　　I'm　ashamedashamed！〃
  He　put　his　arm　about　her　shoulders。　　〃But　why　shouldn't　I　answer？〃　said　he　in　the　kindly　gentle　tone　we　can　all　assume　when　a　ma