ed how she had often condemned Louis for exactly
the same habit when he got perplexed.

"You see!" she told the sun desperately, "even a little thing like that!
I do think we're censorious and cruel to each other."

She began to walk about the roof. Her foot was bleeding neglected; at
every step she left a little, red print unnoticed.

"Of course it's natural and beautiful--and abominably instructive! Where
the wrong comes in is that it gets you down, beats you, takes hold of
you. Eating bread would be wrong if you made an orgy of it. So would
religion, or anything. All this time I've been posing as something so
splendid, wanting to save Louis from Drink; I've been deceiving myself.
I've been in love with him. And it's the sort of love that would soon
degenerate into an orgy--if I let it!"

She felt that she was so full of ideas that she was getting muddled,
but one thing was very clear.

"I wonder if that queer remark in Genesis, 'Adam knew Eve, his wife,'
means this strange understanding that has happened to me to-night? I've
often been puzzled by what it could mean. Did it mean that he became
aware, in a flash as I did, of what this sex business might mean in his
life--how it might be a chain to him as it has been to so many people?
It's queer--it's like waking up from a dream that's been over you all
your life, and suddenly seeing things very clear. I see them clear now."
She looked out across the shining sea. "Either it can be a chain, or it
can be a Spear of Deliverance as it was to Parsifal."

She looked from the sea to Louis, unconscious, untroubled by problems
now that she had taken his burdens upon herself. She realized that she
had even more battles to fight now. She had her own; there was an enemy
within her own camp. Even as she stood there watching him her nails
gripped the stone coping fiercely because half of her was wanting last
night's tornado back again.

"No, I won't put up with chains. I'll carry a Spear," she said, and
tumbled down the ladder to dress ... tumbled because her feet were
unsteady.

CHAPTER XVII

As she was dressing she became aware of sounds of violent scrubbing
going on in the next room--she had often heard such sounds almost before
dawn. She had noticed, too, the almost painful cleanliness of the rather
bare, big house. She knew that no servants were kept; she never saw Mrs.
King scrubbing; most of her time was spent in cooking and washing
clothes. Mr. King had ne