infamy. I was much interested to see how she could appear perfect in her
soul. I encouraged her to talk. I saw with devilish irony that an angel
spoke. And, to cap it all, she assumed the fascinating air of the
mediator--for her brother; seeking a reconciliation between us. Her
amazing art of person and mind so worked upon me that it became
unendurable; it was so exquisite--and so shameless. I was sitting where
the priest had sat that afternoon; and when she leaned towards me I
caught her chin lightly and trailed my fingers through her hair as he
had done: and that ended it, for I was cold, and my heart worked with
horrible slowness. Just as a wave poises at its height before breaking
upon the shore, it hung at every pulse-beat, and then seemed to fall over
with a sickening thud. I arose, and acting still, spoke impatiently of
her brother. Tears sprang to her eyes. Such divine dissimulation,
I thought--too good for earth. She turned to leave the room, and I did
not stay her. Yet we were together again that night. . . . I was
only waiting."

The cigarette had dropped from his fingers to the floor, and lay there
smoking. Shon's face was fixed with anxiety; Pierre's eyes played
gravely with the sunshine. Wendling drew a heavy breath, and then went
on.

"Again, next day, it was like this-the world draining the heat. . . .
I watched from the Big Mill. I saw them again. He leaned over her chair
and buried his face in her hair. The proof was absolute now. . . .
I started away, going a roundabout, that I might not be seen. It took me
some time. I was passing through a clump of cedar when I saw them making
towards the trees skirting the river. Their backs were on me. Suddenly
they diverted their steps--towards the great slide, shut off from water
this last few months, and used as a quarry to deepen it. Some petrified