ecause a
mere child could hurt him almost to death, and that made it worse. A
mere child, barely out of the schoolroom, petulant, spoiled, selfish!

But she had the glory of heaven in her voice, and in her face the fatal
beauty of her dead mother's deadly sin. He need not have despised
himself for loving her. Her whole being appealed to that in man to which
no woman ever appealed in vain since the first Adam sold heaven to Satan
for woman's love.

Dalrymple, leaning on his elbow, one hand in his streaked beard, the
other grasping his glass, talked on and quoted more and more.

"'The flame took fast upon her cheek,
Took fast upon her chin,
Took fast upon her fair body
Because of her deadly sin.'"

His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper at the last words, and suddenly,
regardless of his companion, his hand covered his eyes, and his long
fingers strained desperately on his bony forehead. Griggs watched him,
thinking that he was drunk at last.

"Because of her deadly sin," he repeated slowly, and the tone changed.
"There is no sin in it!" he cried suddenly, in a low voice, that had a
distant, ghostly ring in it.

He looked up, and his eyes were changed, and Griggs knew that they no
longer saw him.

"Stiff," he said softly. "Quite stiff. Dead two or three hours, I
daresay. It stands up on its feet beside me--certainly dead two or three
hours."

He nodded wisely to himself twice, and then spoke again in the same
far-off tone, gazing past Griggs, at the wall.

"The clothes-basket is a silly idea. Besides, I should lose the night.
Rather carry it myself--wrap it up in the plaid. She'll never know, when
she has it on her head. Who cares?"

A long silence followed. One hand grasped the empty glass. The other lay
motionless on the table. The blue eyes, with widely dilated pupils,
stared at the wall, never blinking nor turning. But in the face there
was the drawn expression of a bodily effort. Presently Griggs saw the
fine beads of perspiration on the great forehead. Then the voice spoke
again, but in Italian this time.

"You had better look away while I go by. It is not a pretty sight. No,"
he continued, changing to English, "not at all a pretty sight. Stiff as
a board still."

The unwinking eyes dilated. The bright colour was gone from the cheek
bones.

"It burns very well," he said again in Italian. The whole face quivered
and the hard lips softened and kissed t