been able to compose one. She had done the best that she could. But the
truth lay there, or the letter was composed as an expression of what she
knew that she ought to feel, and was not the actual outpouring of an
overfull heart. She could not be blamed for not feeling more deeply, nor
for her inability to express what she did not feel. But when she spoke
of it to the man she loved, she roused herself to emotion easily enough,
and her words sounded well in her own ears and in his. To the last, he
never understood that she loved such emotion for its own sake, and that
he helped her to produce it in herself. In the comparatively simple
view of human nature which he took in those days, it seemed to him that
if a woman were willing to sacrifice everything, including social
respectability itself, for any man, she must love him with all her
heart. He could not have understood that any woman should give up
everything, practically, in the attempt to feel something of which she
was not capable.

In reply to her letter, Dalrymple sent a draft for a considerable sum of
money, through his banker. The fact that it was addressed to her at Via
della Frezza was the only indication that he had received her letter. In
due time, Gloria wrote to thank him, but he took no notice of the
communication.

"He never loved me," she said to Griggs as the days went by and brought
her nothing from her father. "I used to think so, when I was a mere
child, but I am sure of it now. You are the only human being that ever
loved me."

She was pale that day, and her white hand sought his as she spoke, with
a quiver of the lip.

"I am glad of it," he answered. "I shall not divide you with any one."

So their life went on, somewhat monotonously after the first few weeks.
Griggs worked hard and earned more money than formerly, but he
discovered very soon that it would be all he could do to support Gloria
in bare comfort. He would not allow her to use her own money for
anything which was to be in common, or in which he had any share
whatever.

"You must spend it on yourself," he said. "I will not touch it. I will
not accept anything you buy with it--not so much as a box of cigarettes.
You must spend it on your clothes or on jewels."

"You are unkind," she answered. "You know how much pleasure it would
give me to help you."

"Yes. I know. You cannot understand, but you must try. Men never do that
sort of thing."

And, as usual, he dominated her, an