hing for another day."

That broke the spell.

"No, you must never come back."

He picked up his hat and his stick.

"Mel, would you shut the door in my face?"

"No, Daren--but I'll not open it," she replied resolutely.

"Why?"

"You must not come."

"For my sake--or yours?"

"Both our sakes."

He backed out on the little porch, and looked at her as she stood
there. Beyond him, indeed, were his emotions then. Sad as she seemed,
he wanted to make her suffer more--an inexplicable and shameful
desire.

"Mel, you and I are alike," he said.

"Oh, no, Daren; you are noble and I am...."

"Mel, in my dreams I see myself standing--plodding along the dark
shores of a river--that river of tears which runs down the vast naked
stretch of our inner lives.... I see you now, on the opposite shore.
Let us reach our hands across--for the baby's sake."

"Daren, it is a beautiful thought, but it--it can't be," she
whispered.

"Then let me come to see you when I need--when I'm down," he begged.

"No."

"Mel, what harm can it do--just to let me come?"

"No--don't ask me. Daren, I am no stone."

"You'll be sorry when I'm out there in--Woodlawn.... That won't be
long."

That broke her courage and her restraint.

"Come, then," she whispered, in tears.

CHAPTER VIII

Lane's intentions and his spirit were too great for his endurance. It
was some time before he got downtown again. And upon entering the inn
he was told some one had just called him on the telephone.

"Hello, this is Lane," he answered. "Who called me?"

"It's Blair," came the reply. "How are you, old top?"

"Not so well. I've been down and out."

"Sorry. Suppose that's why you haven't called me up for so long?"

"Well, Buddy, I can't lay it all to that.... And how're you?"

The answer did not come. So Lane repeated his query.

"Well, I'm still hobbling round on one leg," replied Blair.

"That's good. Tell me about Reddie."

Again the reply was long in coming....

"Haven't you heard--about Red?"

"No."

"Haven't seen the newspapers lately?"

"I never read the papers, Blair."

"Right-o. But I had to.... Buck up, now, Dare!"

"All right. Shoot it quick," returned Lane, feeling his breast
contract and his skin tighten with a chill.

"Red Payson has gone west."

"Blair! You don't mean--dead?" exclaimed Lane.

"Yes, Reddie's gone--and I guess it's just as well, poor devil!"

"How? When?"

"Two days ago, according to paper