Through the silence the listener's ear could detect a faint sound of
the tide washing against the piles of the wharf outside.

The sculptor started up suddenly and stood firmly, throwing back his
splendid head and shoulders, and looking straight into the eyes of his
friend.

"Yes," he said in a clear, low voice. "I have changed. I---There is
some one else."

"Life," remarked Rangely, with seeming irrelevancy, "life is a
fallacy."

"I'd like to be honorable," Herman continued, "but how can I? It is
impossible to be honest to both her and myself. If I hadn't had any
scruples, then---Bah! What a beast I am! Poor Ninitta."

Still Rangely smoked in silence, and the sculptor went on again.

"It has always been my creed that when a man has allowed a woman to
love him--much more, made her love him, as I did--he is a black-hearted
knave to let a change in himself wreck her happiness. Now I am put to
the test."

"And the other one?" asked Rangely. "Does she know that you care for
her?"

"I have never said so to her. Heaven only knows how much she feels by
intuition. A man always fancies that the woman he loves can tell."