th through which he was compelled
to shove his feet. There were rocks which she could not see, down which
he was constantly slipping. Her directions barely kept him from bumping
into the trees that grew closer and closer together. Occasionally she
pushed a branch aside from before him, and laughed as he stooped to pass
under, throwing her forward so that she had to cling to his neck to keep
her position.

On and on he forced his way, his teeth clenched, his breath broken by
the strain. She made herself as easy to carry as she could, but beyond
that she showed no sign of sympathy. Again and again he was obliged to
stop and put her down while he rested. His head was throbbing
frightfully. He gave up trying to talk.

During one of their frequent rests she had asked him quietly, her eyes
filled with a soft, calculative haze: "How much are you good for,
Lawrence?"

He had answered: "Till we find water." She had laughed a little at that,
and it had sounded unpleasant to him.

Now she said again: "You don't face facts, do you?" He made no answer.

She continued: "It's strange how we humans are always so overdetermined.
One ought to know by the time he is grown that he is a puppet in the
hands of circumstance. Now I go on hoping that you can carry me out to
life and my husband, and you plod determinedly on as if you were really
able to do it. Of course, you may, but it is entirely dependent upon
outside things."

He was too tired to answer, even to think. Besides, that was exactly his
view of the situation.

"You see," she went on, "here we are, two distinct groups of living
cells, each loving life and wanting it. Our pasts have been very
different, our futures would have been; but here we are. I am resentful,
because you are blind, because you are not stronger, because I cannot
walk. You are probably resenting the same things. Perhaps you resent my
saying what I do. You want me to reassure you and to promise success. If
I did, you would know in your real mind that I was lying to you for the
sake of getting you to do more. Yet both of us would feel happier if I
could do it. I can't."

He stood up and took her in his arms without a word.

"We are going a few yards farther," she laughed. "Well, if ever any
animal deserved life, you do."

He bit his lip and climbed on up the hill. In his mind he was saying
over and over: "Just a mere intellect, nothing more. That's all she is."
Yet in his arms she felt very feminine.