kind of cynical detestation and contempt for her, both as a student
of science and a woman of wealth. And yet--and yet--he had almost
loved her! And a thing that goaded him to the quick was that so far
as scientific knowledge and attainment were concerned she was more
than his equal. Irritated by his own quarrelsome set of sentiments
which pulled him first this way and then that, he decided that the
only thing possible for him was to put a "great divide" of distance
between himself and her. This he had done--and to what purpose?
Apparently merely to excite her ridicule!--and to prick her humor up
to the mischievous prank of finding out where he had fled and
following him! And she--even she--who had kept him aloof ever since
that fatal moment on the seashore,--had discovered him on this
lonely hill-side, and had taunted him with her light mockery

--and actually said that "to kiss him would be like kissing a bunch
of nettles!"--SHE said that!--she who for one wild moment he had
held in his arms--bah!--he sprang up from his chair in a kind of
rage with himself, as his thoughts crowded thick and fast one on the
other--why did he think of her at all! It was as if some external
commanding force compelled him to do so. Then--she had seen Manella,
and had naturally drawn her own conclusions, based on the girl's
rich beauty which was so temptingly set within his reach. He began
to talk to himself aloud once more, picking up the thread of his
broken converse where he had left it--

"If it were Morgana it would be far worse than if it were Manella!"
he said--"The one is too stupid--the other too clever. But the
stupid woman would make the best wife--if I wanted one--which I do
not; and the best mother, if I desired children,--which I do not.
The question is,--what DO I want? I think I know--but supposing I