But lo! this rock! we cannot climb it, so
Thou must point out some other way to go."
Yet secretly we are rejoicing: and,
When right before our faces, as we stand
In seeming grief, the rock is cleft in twain,
Leaving the pathway clear, we shrink in pain,
And, loth to go, by every act reveal
What we so tried from Conscience to conceal.

I saw that hour, the way made plain, to do
With scarce an effort what had seemed a strife
That would require the strength of my whole life.

Women have quick perceptions, and I knew
That Vivian's heart was full of jealous pain,
Suspecting--nay, BELIEVING--Roy Montaine
To be my lover. First my altered mien -
And next the letter--then the doorway scene -
My flushed face gazing in the one above
That bent so near me, and my strange confusion
When Vivian came all led to one conclusion:
That I had but been playing with his love,
As women sometimes cruelly do play
With hearts when their true lovers are away.

There could be nothing easier than just
To let him linger on in this belief
Till hourly-fed Suspicion and Distrust
Should turn to scorn and anger all his grief.
Compared with me, so doubly sweet and pure