ark to fall upon
them, refraining from lighting the lamp. The dark discreet room, their
isolation, the music that still vibrated in their ears united them.
This union exalted him, wore away the rough edges of his character,
emotionalised his mental life. Sometimes he caught himself listening to
the sound of his own voice. He thought that in her eyes he would ascend
to an angelical stature; and, as he attached the fervent nature of his
companion more and more closely to him, he heard the strange impersonal
voice which he recognised as his own, insisting on the soul's incurable
loneliness. We cannot give ourselves, it said: we are our own. The end
of these discourses was that one night during which she had shown every
sign of unusual excitement, Mrs. Sinico caught up his hand passionately
and pressed it to her cheek.

Mr. Duffy was very much surprised. Her interpretation of his words
disillusioned him. He did not visit her for a week, then he wrote to her
asking her to meet him. As he did not wish their last interview to be
troubled by the influence of their ruined confessional they meet in a
little cakeshop near the Parkgate. It was cold autumn weather but in
spite of the cold they wandered up and down the roads of the Park for
nearly three hours. They agreed to break off their intercourse: every
bond, he said, is a bond to sorrow. When they came out of the Park they
walked in silence towards the tram; but here she began to tremble
so violently that, fearing another collapse on her part, he bade her
good-bye quickly and left her. A few days later he received a parcel
containing his books and music.

Four years passed. Mr. Duffy returned to his even way of life. His room
still bore witness of the orderliness of his mind. Some new pieces of
music encumbered the music-stand in the lower room and on his shelves
stood two volumes by Nietzsche: Thus Spake Zarathustra and The Gay
Science. He wrote seldom in the sheaf of papers which lay in his desk.
One of his sentences, written two months after his last interview with
Mrs. Sinico, read: Love between man and man is impossible because there
must not be sexual intercourse and friendship between man and woman is
impossible because there must be sexual intercourse. He kept away from
concerts lest he should meet her. His father died; the junior partner of
the bank retired. And still every morning he went into the city by
tram and every evening walked home from the city after having