North if there is anything needed to be done there which human
beings can do."

She looked at him steadfastly.

"That is what I am afraid of," she said.

Roland Clewe did not immediately speak. To him Margaret Raleigh
was two persons. She was a woman of business, earnest,
thoughtful, helpful, generous, and wise; a woman with whom he
worked, consulted, planned, who made it possible for him to carry
on the researches and enterprises to which he had devoted his
life. But, more than this, she was another being; she was a
woman he loved, with a warm, passionate love, which grew day by
day, and which a year ago had threatened to break down every
barrier of prudence, and throw him upon his knees before her as a
humiliated creature who had been pretending to love knowledge,
philosophy, and science, but in reality had been loving beauty
and riches. It was the fear of this catastrophe which had had a
strong influence in taking him to Europe.

But now, by some magical influence--an influence which he was not
sure he understood--that first woman, the woman of business, his
partner, his co-worker, had disappeared, and there sat before him
the woman he loved. He felt in his soul that if he tried to
banish her it would be impossible; by no word or act could he at
this moment bring back the other.

"Margaret Raleigh," he said, suddenly, "you have thrown me from
my balance. Yon may not believe it, you may not be able to