standard writings of some of my older and more
eloquent colleagues."

There was a pause in their talk as they paced up
and down on the green, velvet-like lawn in the genial
sunshine.

"Have you thought at all," he asked at last, "of
the matter upon which I spoke to you last night?"

She said nothing, but walked by his side with her
eyes averted and her face aslant.

"I would not hurry you unduly," he continued. "I
know that it is a matter which can scarcely be
decided off-hand. In my own case, it cost me some
thought before I ventured to make the suggestion. I
am not an emotional man, but I am conscious in your
presence of the great evolutionary instinct which
makes either sex the complement of the other."

"You believe in love, then?" she asked, with a
twinkling, upward glance.

"I am forced to."

"And yet you can deny the soul?"

"How far these questions are psychic and how far
material is still sub judice," said the