erer of appreciating
him."

"Mrs. Durrett is an old friend of yours?" she asked.

"I was brought up with her."

"Ah!" she exclaimed, and turned her penetrating glance upon me. I was
startled. Could it be that she had discerned and interpreted those
renascent feelings even then stirring within me, and of which I myself
was as yet scarcely conscious? At this moment, fortunately for me, the
women rose; the men remained to smoke; and Scherer, as they discussed
matters of finance, became himself again. I joined in the conversation,
but I was thinking of those instants when in flashes of understanding my
eyes had met Nancy's; instants in which I was lifted out of my humdrum,
deadly serious self and was able to look down objectively upon the life
I led, the life we all led--and Nancy herself; to see with her the comic
irony of it all. Nancy had the power to give me this exquisite sense of
detachment that must sustain her. And was it not just this sustenance
she could give that I needed? For want of it I was hardening,
crystallizing, growing blind to the joy and variety of existence.
Nancy could have saved me; she brought it home to me that I needed
salvation.... I was struck by another thought; in spite of our
separation, in spite of her marriage and mine, she was still nearer to
me--far nearer--than any other being.

Later, I sought her out. She looked up at me amusedly from the
window-seat in our living-room, where she had been talking to the
Scherer girls.

"Well, how did you get along with Hilda?" she asked. "I thought I saw
you struggling."

"She's somewhat disconcerting," I said. "I felt as if she were turning
me inside out."

Nancy laughed.

"Hilda's a discovery--a genius. I'm going to have them to dinner
myself."

"And Adolf?" I inquired. "I believe she thought you were preparing to
run away with him. You seemed to have him hypnotized."

"I'm afraid your great man won't be able to stand--elevation," she
declared. "He'll have vertigo. He's even got it now, at this little
height, and when he builds his palace on Grant Avenue, and later moves
to New York, I'm afraid he'll wobble even more."

"Is he thinking of doing all that?" I asked.

"I merely predict New York--it's inevitable," she replied. "Grant
Avenue, yes; he wants me to help him choose a lot. He gave me ten
thousand dollars for our Orphans' Home, but on the whole I think I
prefer Hilda even if she doesn't approve of me."

Nancy rose. The Schere