``How wise you are!'' laughed Jane. ``Who would have suspected
you of knowing so much!''

``How could I--a woman--and not unattractive to men--grow up to
be twenty-one years old, in the free life of a working woman,
without learning all there is to know about sex relations?''

Jane looked at her with a new interest.

``And,'' she went on, ``I've learned--not by experience, I'm glad
to say, but by observation--that my mother's proverb is true. I
shall not think about love until I am compelled to. That is a
peril a sensible person does not seek.''

``I did not seek it,'' cried Jane--and then she halted and
flushed.

``Good-by, Jane,'' said Selma, waving her hand and moving away
rapidly. She called back--``On ne badine pas avec l'amour!''

She went straight to Colman's cottage--to Victor, lying very pale
with his eyes shut, and big Tom Colman sitting by his bed. There
was a stillness in the room that Selma felt was ominous.
Victor's hand--strong, well-shaped, useful-looking,
used-looking--not ABUSED- looking, but USED-looking-was outside
the covers upon the white counterpane. The fingers were drumming
softly; Selma knew that gesture--a certain sign that Victor was
troubled in mind.