* * * *

At this point Jerry hid his face in his hands, trembling violently.

"I was out of my head, Roger. Tell me that I was, for the love of God.
I must have been. It was horrible. I did not know. I can scarcely
remember now. Death would have been better--for her, for me--than
that. My God! If only you had told me, something. I could have gone
away, I think--before--But to have knowledge come like that,
engulfing, flooding, drowning with its terrible bitterness. And
Marcia--" He raised his head piteously, "I asked her to marry me,
Roger--at once. But she only looked at me with strange eyes.

"'Marriage!' she said, 'My God!' It was almost as though I had uttered
a sacrilege.

"I pleaded with her gently, but she shook me off. A fearful change had
come over her. She drew away and looked at me with alien eyes.

"'Marriage!' she repeated. '_You!_'

"'Marry me tomorrow, Marcia--'

"She thrust her naked arms in front of her, their tatters flying, the
rags of her honor.

"'Oh, God! How I loathe you!'

"'Marcia!'

"'Go away from me. Go!'

"She put her arm before her eyes as though to shut out the sight of
me.

"'For God's sake, go,' she repeated, with words that cut like knives.
'Leave me alone, alone.'

"'I must see you--tomorrow.'

"She turned on me furiously.

"'No, no, no,' she screamed, 'not tomorrow--or ever. It would kill me
to see you. Kill me. Go away--never comeback. Do you hear? Never!
Never!'

"She was in a harrowing condition now, mad where I was quite sane.
There was nothing left for me to do. I turned as in a daze into the
woods and wandered around as though only half-awake, stupidly trying
to plan. At last I went back to the spring. Marcia had gone--gone out
of my life--

"That's all, Roger. I wrote to her from New York, from Manitoba,
from the ranch in Colorado, repeating my offer of marriage, but she
has never answered me. You know the rest--" a slow and rather bitter
smile crossed his features. "She goes about--with Lloyd--and others.
She is gay. Her picture is in the papers and magazines--at
hunt-meets--bazaars. She has forgotten--and I--No, I can never forget.
She will dwell with me all the days I live. I can't forget or
forgive--myself. Why, Roger, the Mission--the place that I'm giving
money to support--to keep those women. You understand--I know now.
_She_ might be one of them and I--I would have brought her there."

I had been stricken dumb by the fea