tion was merely
the result of his accumulating years; but, beyond the fact that such an
increase might have brought him different and keener perceptions, that
explanation was entirely inadequate. He wanted a quality beyond his
experience, beyond, he realized, any material condition--Susan Brundon,
yes; but it was no comparatively simple urge of sex, the natural
selection of the general animal creation. There was no question of
passionate importunities; those, here, would be worse than futile; all
that he desired was beyond words, moving in obedience to a principle of
which he had not caught the slightest glimpse. Yet, confident of his
ultimate victory, he maintained the dominating presence of a black
Penny.

Susan Brundon had sunk back into the depths of her capacious chair; she
seemed utterly exhausted, as if she had been subjected to a prolonged
brutal strain. But still her eyes sought him steady in their hurt
regard. "There is so much that I can give you," he blundered,
immediately conscious of the sterility of his phrase. "I mean better
things--peace and attention and--and understanding. I won't attempt any
of the terms usual, commonplace, at such moments, you must take them,
where they are worthy, for granted. I only tell you a lamentable fact,
and ask you to marry me, promise you the tenderest care--"

"I know that," she replied, with obvious difficulty, hesitation. "I'll
not thank you. It is terribly difficult for me. I'd like to answer you
as you wish, I mean reply to--to your request. But the other, the child,
dragged about; there was such a distrust, a wariness, in her face."

"There is no good in thinking of that alone," he stated, with a return
of his customary decision. "No one can walk backwards into the future.
Try to consider only the immediate question, what I have asked you--will
you marry me?"

"Is that all you have to explain?" she asked. "Is there, now, no one
else that counts?" The edge of a cold dread entered his hopes. "If you
refer to the child's mother," he said stiffly, "she is amply well taken
care of, you need waste no sentimental thoughts on her."

"Ah!" Susan exclaimed, shrinking. Her hands closed tightly on the wide
silk of her skirt. The fear deepened within him; it would be impossible
to explain Essie to the woman before him. Essie, falsely draped in
conventional attributes, defied him to utter the simple truth. He raged
silently at his impotence, the inhibition that prevented the