; above them the grey sky had broken into
blue and white, the cloud shaped with ribs and fleecy softness like a
huge wing stretching above them from horizon to horizon.

Over the two of them, so tiny on that broad expanse, this wing brooded
tenderly, gravely--

Breton had crushed the letter in his hand and stood looking in front of
him, but seeing nothing. His one thought was that he had been brutally
treated,--she had simply, without a thought, without a care, flung him
aside.

He had, of course, known that this accident to her husband must, for a
time, hold her, but now, in this fashion, she had passed on without
hesitation--leaving him anywhere, anyhow; was it so long ago that she
had said to him that, whether she came to him or no she would always
love him? Had she already forgotten that kiss, that moment when she had
clung to him, held to him?

He stood there, filled with self-pity. This restraint, this
self-discipline all done for her and now all useless. It was not wanted;
_he_ was not wanted....

Had she only preserved some relationship, told him to wait, assured him
that he meant something to her, anything but this--

But there was greater pain at Breton's heart than thought of Rachel
brought him. To every man comes in due time the instant of revelation;
it had flashed before Breton now.

He saw that his relationship with Rachel was at an end, utterly--However
he might delude himself that, in his soul, he knew. There had been a
moment when they had met and the moment had passed. But he saw more than
this. He saw that he was a man to whom life had always been a succession
of moments--moments flashing, stinging, flying, gone--he, always,
helpless to grasp and hold.

Had he, on that day, been strong, held Rachel, conquered her, made her
his.... He was weak through the fine things in him as surely as through
the base--His ideals forced his purpose to tremble as often as his
regrets....

Standing there, he faced himself and saw that, whether for good or evil,
Life for him had always been evasive, fluid, a thing grasped at but
never caught.

Rachel was not for such as he--

Lizzie had watched him and her face had grown very tender--"I know I'm a
nuisance just now," she said--"it hasn't, naturally, been a very
pleasant thing for me to have to do--but I thought that I could tell you
a little about her--I've seen her through all of this."

He strode along fiercely, his eyes staring in front of him; he lo