d
weight, and her brain ached with the strain of her problem.

It was late afternoon. All day she had wandered with Lawrence in
comparative silence, wishing that he would speak, and observing that
something troubled him.

Finally she moved uneasily, took her hand from her cheek, and said
half-dreamily, "You aren't a bit talkative."

He gulped, swallowed, and laughed. "I'm too busy trying to think of
something to say," he told her amusedly.

"Oh!" She was provoked in the extreme. "Have I ceased to suggest
conversation? You are very tired of me, then."

"Quite the contrary. So far from it, you paralyze my tongue."

"How complimentary!" she said. "Then I suppose your excessive arguments
with Philip denote your weariness of him?"

"They do."

"I suppose, if you were really fond of a person, you would never talk at
all?"

"Perhaps. I don't know but that you are right."

She laughed gaily. "Lawrence," she said, "you are certainly amusing when
you attempt to be flattering!"

He grew warm and uncomfortable.

"I wasn't trying to flatter. Can't you see that?" He was almost wistful.

"I don't see it. No, if you weren't trying to flatter you were surely
doing the unintended in a most intricately original manner."

He shifted his position and did not answer.

"Of course," she said, "although you aren't accustomed to flattering,
you've taken to doing it almost constantly."

"Well, why shouldn't I?" he asked curiously.

"Why not, if you care to?" Her reply was as gentle as if she were a
submissive object of his whims.

He felt that now was the time to speak, but he could not bring himself
to the point. The thought of his blindness killed all confidence.

"Hang it all," he broke out, quite as if it were a part of their
previous talk, "blindness certainly does rob one of his will!"

She looked at him apprehensively. "I thought you had decided you were
the master of that."

"I had, but it seems I was mistaken."

Claire laid her hand on his arm tenderly. Her eyes were dazzling.

"Lawrence, you must master that, you know."

"Why?" he said thoughtfully. "If I shouldn't, it would mean only one
more human animal on the scrap heap!"

"But you don't want to be there."

"Of course not. No one does. I don't imagine any one chooses it."

"If you go there it will be because you choose it."

"I wish I saw things your way," he observed. "At times I feel as sure of
success as if it were inevitable, and then suddenly