Many a man and woman looks with some impatience for the last good-bye
to be said, so sweet is the prospect of sadness, of suffering, of
resignation."

I was aghast at his audacity, but I saw that Chonita was fascinated.
Her egotism was caressed, and her womanhood thrilled. "Are we all such
shams as that?" was what she said. "You make me despise myself."

"Not yourself, but a great structure--of which you are but a
grain--with a faulty foundation. Don't despise yourself. Curse the
builders who shoveled those stones together."

He left her then, and she told me to go to bed; she wanted to sit a
while and think.

"He makes you think too much," I said. "Better forget what he says as
soon as you can. He is a very disturbing influence."

But she made me no reply, and sat there staring at the floor. She
began to feel a sense of helplessness, like a creature caught in a
net. It was more the man's personality than his words which made her
feel as if he were pouring himself throughout her, taking possession
of brain and every sense, as though he were a sort of intellectual
drug.

"I believe I was made from his rib," she thought, angrily, "else why
can he have this extraordinary power over me? I do not love him. I
have read somewhat of love, and seen more. This is different, quite. I
only feel that there is something in him that I want. Sometimes I feel
that I must dig my nails into him and tear him apart until I find