He picked up hat, gloves, and crop, looked down at her, came and stood
at the table, resting one hand on the edge.

"We're pretty young yet, Geraldine.... I never saw a girl I cared for as
I might have cared for you. It's true, no matter what I have done, or
may do.... But you're quite right, a man of that sort isn't to be
considered"--he laughed and pulled on one glove--"only--I knew as soon
as I saw you that it was to be you or--everybody. First, it was anybody;
then it was you--now it's everybody. Good-bye."

"Good-bye," she managed to say. The dizzy waves swayed her; she rested
her cheeks between both hands and, leaning there heavily, closed her
eyes to fight against it. She had been seated on the side of a lounge;
and now, feeling blindly behind her, she moved the cushions aside,
turned and dropped among them, burying her blazing face. Over her the
scorching vertigo swept, subsided, rose, and swept again. Oh, the horror
of it!--the shame, the agonised surprise. What was this dreadful thing
that, for the second time, she had unwittingly done? And this time it
was so much more terrible. How could such an accident have happened to
her? How could she face her own soul in the disgrace of it?

Fear, loathing, frightened incredulity that this could really be
herself, stiffened her body and clinched her hands under her parted
lips. On them her hot breath fell irregularly.

Rigid, motionless, she lay, breathing faster and more feverishly. Tears
came after a long while, and with them relaxation and lassitude. She
felt that the dreadful thing which had seized and held her was letting
go its hold, was freeing her body and mind; and as it slowly released
her and passed on its terrible silent way, she awoke and sat up with a