of the appeal swung his unhinged mind to the
other extreme--from the savagery of passion to a frenzy of remorse.
"Fair to _you_? No," he cried, "because I love you. Oh, I'm
ashamed--bitterly ashamed. I'm capable of any baseness to get you.
You're right. You can't trust me. In going you're saving me from
myself." He hesitated, stared wildly, appalled at the words that were
fighting for utterance--the words about marriage--about marrying her! He
said hoarsely: "I am mad--mad! I don't know what I'm saying.
Good-by--For God's sake, don't think the worst of me, Dorothy. Good-by.
I _will_ be a man again--I will!"

And he wrung her hand and, talking incoherently, he rushed from the room
and from the house.

XII

He went straight home and sought his sister. She had that moment come in
from tea after a matinee. She talked about the play--how badly it was
acted--and about the women she had seen at tea--how badly dressed they
were. "It's hard to say which is the more dreadful--the ugly, misshapen
human race without clothes or in the clothes it insists on wearing. And
the talk at that tea! Does no one ever say a pleasant thing about
anyone? Doesn't anyone ever do a pleasant thing that can be spoken
about? I read this morning Tolstoy's advice about resolving to think all
day only nice thoughts and sticking to it. That sounded good to me, and
I decided to try it." Ursula laughed and squirmed about in her
tight-fitting dress that made an enchanting display of her figure. "What
is one to do? _I_ can't be a fraud, for one. And if I had stuck to my
resolution I'd have spent the day in lying. What's the matter, Fred?"
Now that her attention was attracted she observed more closely. "What
_have_ you been doing? You look--frightful!"

"I've broken with her," replied he.

"With Jo?" she cried. "Why, Fred, you can't--you can't--with the
wedding only five days away!"

"Not with Jo."

Ursula breathed noisy relief. She said cheerfully: "Oh--with the other.
Well, I'm glad it's over."

"Over?" said he sardonically. "Over? It's only begun."

"But you'll stick it out, Fred. You've made a fool of yourself long
enough. What was the girl playing for? Marriage?"

He nodded. "I guess so." He laughed curtly. "And she almost won."

Ursula smiled with fine mockery. "Almost, but not quite. I know you men.
Women do that sort of fool thing. But men--never--at least not the
ambitious, snobbish New York men."

"She almost won," he repeated