aid he.

The lights of the pavilion fell away, and advanced, and swung about in a
great sickening circle. I shut my eyes. The lights still swung before my
eyes. Von Gerhard leaned toward me with a word of alarm. I clung to his
hands with all my strength.

"No!" I said, and the savage voice was not my own. "No! No! No! It
isn't true! It isn't--Oh, it's some joke, isn't it? Tell me, it's--it's
something funny, isn't it? And after a bit we'll laugh--we'll laugh--of
course--see! I am smiling already--"

"Dawn--dear one--it is true. God knows I wish that I could be happy to
know it. The hospital authorities pronounce him cured. He has been quite
sane for weeks."

"You knew it--how long?"

"You know that Max has attended to all communications from the doctors
there. A few weeks ago they wrote that Orme had shown evidences of
recovery. He spoke of you, of the people he had known in New York, of
his work on the paper, all quite rationally and calmly. But they must
first be sure. Max went to New York a week ago. Peter was gone. The
hospital authorities were frightened and apologetic. Peter had walked
away quite coolly one day. He had gone into the city, borrowed money of
some old newspaper cronies, and vanished. He may be there still. He may
be--"

"Here! Ernst! Take me home! O God; I can't do it! I can't! I ought to
be happy, but I'm not. I ought to be thankful, but I'm not, I'm not! The
horror of having him there was great enough, but it was nothing compared
to the horror of having him here. I used to dream that he was well
again, and that he was searching for me, and the dreadful realness of it
used to waken me, and I would find myself shivering with terror. Once
I dreamed that I looked up from my desk to find him standing in the
doorway, smiling that mirthless smile of his, and I heard him say, in
his mocking way: 'Hello, Dawn my love; looking wonderfully well. Grass
widowhood agrees with you, eh?'"

"Dawn, you must not laugh like that. Come, we will go. You are
shivering! Don't, dear, don't. See, you have Norah, and Max, and me to
help you. We will put him on his feet. Physically he is not what he
should be. I can do much for him."

"You!" I cried, and the humor of it was too exquisite for laughter.

"For that I gave up Vienna," said Von Gerhard, simply. "You, too, must
do your share."

"My share! I have done my share. He was in the gutter, and he was
dragging me with him. When his insanity came upon him I than