with what manner of man she had lived and to whom she had
borne a son. Then if she could look at him without recoiling, if the
essential man meant more to her than the ghastly wreckage of his face,
all would be well. And if not,--well, then, one devastating buffet
from the mailed fist of destiny was better than the slow agony of
daily watching the crisis approach.

So Hollister put forth the plausible fact that he must see about his
affairs and took the next steamer for the Toba.

Lawanne, expecting letters, was at the float to meet the steamer.
Hollister went up-stream with him. They talked very little until they
reached Lawanne's cabin. There was a four-mile current to buck, and
they saved their breath for the paddles. Myra Bland waved as they
passed, and Hollister scarcely looked up. He was in the grip of a
strange apathy. He was tired, physically weary. His body was dull and
heavy, sluggish. So was his mind. He was aware of this, aware that a
nervous reaction of some sort was upon him. He wished that he could
always be like that,--dull, phlegmatic, uncaring. To cease thinking,
to have done with feeling, to be a clod, dead to desires, to high
hopes and heart-numbing fears.

"Come in and have a cup of tea and tell me the latest Vancouver
scandal," Lawanne urged, when they beached the canoe.

Hollister assented. He was as well there as anywhere. If there were an
antidote in human intercourse for what afflicted him, that antidote
lay in Archie Lawanne. There was no false sentiment in Lawanne. He did
not judge altogether by externals. His was an understanding, curiously
penetrating intelligence. Hollister could always be himself with
Lawanne. He sat down on the grass before the cabin and smoked while
Lawanne looked over his letters. The Chinese boy brought tea and
sandwiches and cake on a tray.

"Mrs. Hollister is recovering her sight?" Lawanne asked at length.

Hollister nodded.

"Complete normal sight?"

Hollister nodded again.

"You don't seem overly cheerful about it," Lawanne said slowly.

"You aren't stupid," Hollister replied. "Put yourself in my place."

It was Lawanne's turn to indicate comprehension and assent by a nod.
He looked at Hollister appraisingly, thoughtfully.

"She gains the privilege of seeing again. You lose--what? Are you sure
you stand to lose anything--or is it simply a fear of what you may
lose?"

"What can I expect?" Hollister muttered. "My face is bound to be a
shock. I don't