they have become, especially when I am far inland, a feast of reminiscence. Just so our physical proferences our pleasure in touch, in taste, in sensual experience remain grafted where our love of beauty first took root.' Don't you think those arguments could help a woman physically predisposed to this sort of love to become conscious of a vague curiosity, if certain statues of Rodin's, for example, ovorcame artistically her repugnance? That they might excuse her in her own eye 7, quiet her conscience...and that it could be a great misfortune?"

I do not know how I kept from crying out: the moaning of her confession, the hard light it threwthpon my own awful responsibility, was instantly apparent. But letting myself be blindly guided by one of those high inspirations which, when wo are too crushed, too inadequate to play our roles, suddenly takes over and plays it for us, I said calmly: "I assure you I feel no remorse, for I really noither condemn nor evon pity such womon."

She said cryptically, with infinitely sweet gratitude, "You are gonerous." She added quickly in a low voice, with an air almost of boredom, as one who scorns even while giving matter-of-fact details, "You know well that I've just given an account of myself, despite your air of suspecting nothing; that the shot which no one could extract, and which is the cause of my illness, you have probed for with a sincerity that got it out of me. I hoped no one would ever learn what that shot was. But since the doctor seems so certain now (of my death) and since you might suspect some innocent person of being responsible I admit it. But I would rather tell you the whole truth." She added, with that softness she had used at the beginning in talking of her approaching death, to allay the pain of what she said by her manner of saying it: "It was I, in one of those moments of despair which are only natural to all who live I who...wounded myself."

I wanted to embrace her, but had all I could do to maintain self-control; as I reached her side, an irresistible tide overwhelmed me, my eyes over flowed and I burst into sobs. At once she dried my tears, smiling little, consoled me quietly as she had done before with a thousand small caresses, But within her an immense pity for herself and