'You must try.'

'No, I shall not try,' he answered sullenly.

'What will you do?'

'My plans are made. I shall not live.'

'Oh, Ralph, you will not kill yourself. It would not be worth while.
You've your art to live for. You are--how old are you--thirty? You're
no longer a sentimental boy. You've got your man's life to lead. You
must think of it.'

'I don't feel as if I could. Life seems impossible.'

She looked into his pale gentle eyes and the thought crossed her mind
that his was perhaps one of those narrow, gentle natures that cannot
outlive such a disappointment as she intended to inflict. It would be
very terrible if he did commit suicide, the object of his visit to
Paris would transpire. But no, he would not commit suicide, she was
quite safe, and on that thought she said:

'I cannot remain out any longer.'




VIII.