It was, as Moses had said, a very spacious room, and its furnishings
were distinctive; but, though warm and brightly lighted, to stay in
it to-night was impossible, and, ringing for his coat and hat, he
made ready to go out.

At the table he lingered a moment and glanced at some letters upon
it. Mechanically he took one up, looked at the writing of his name,
and wondered indifferently who it was from. Breaking it open, he
read the few words it contained, and at them his face colored and he
bit his lips to hide their twitching. He read:

DEAR MR. LAINE,--Dorothea has just told me. I
am so sorry. CLAUDIA KEITH.

With a sudden surrender to something stubbornly withheld, he sat down
in the chair near the table, leaned back in it, and closed his eyes
to keep back that which stung and blinded them. To most of his
friends the going of General would be but the going of a dog, and
barely a passing thought would be its portion when they heard, but
she must understand. He got up. No. There was no one who could
really understand.




VI

A LETTER PROM DOROTHEA

For a moment he hesitated whether to go down or up the street. The