dertow, that mystic cord that seemed to pull from his
solar plexus outward, was to Suzanne and to her only. Suzanne! Suzanne!
Around her hair, the thought of her smile, her indescribable presence,
was built all that substance of romance which he had hoped to enjoy and
which now, in absence and probably final separation, glowed with a
radiance which no doubt the reality could never have had.

"We are such stuff as dreams are made on and our little life is rounded
with a sleep." We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and only of
dreams are our keen, stinging realities compounded. Nothing else is so
moving, so vital, so painful as a dream.

For a time that first spring and summer, while Myrtle looked after
little Angela and Eugene went to live with her and her husband, he
visited his old Christian Science practitioner, Mrs. Johns. He had not
been much impressed with the result in Angela's case, but Myrtle
explained the difficulty of the situation in a plausible way. He was in
a terrific state of depression, and it was while he was so that Myrtle
persuaded him to go again. She insisted that Mrs. Johns would overcome
his morbid gloom, anyhow, and make him feel better. "You want to come
out of this, Eugene," she pleaded. "You will never do anything until you
do. You are a big man. Life isn't over. It's just begun. You're going to
get well and strong again. Don't worry. Everything that is is for the
best."

He went once, quarreling with himself for doing so, for in spite of his
great shocks, or rather because of them, he had no faith in religious
conclusions of any kind. Angela had not been saved. Why should he?

Still the metaphysical urge was something--it was so hard to suffer
spiritually and not believe there was some way out. At times he hated
Suzanne for her indifference. If ever she came back he would show her.
There would be no feeble urgings and pleadings the next time. She had
led him into this trap, knowing well what she was doing--for she was
wise enough--and then had lightly deserted him. Was that the action of a
large spirit? he asked himself. Would the wonderful something he thought
he saw there be capable of that? Ah, those hours at Daleview--that one
stinging encounter in Canada!--the night she danced with him so
wonderfully!

During a period of nearly three years all the vagaries and alterations
which can possibly afflict a groping and morbid mind were his. He went
from what might be described as _almo