with such petty egoism as I am. Think of it,
my wife locked up in an asylum is occupied every moment of the day with
proving her own selfishness, weakness, unworthiness and wickedness toward
me. Because she is so unworthy, as she says, and because I am so great,
so noble, so admirable, they have to watch her all the time, I am told,
to keep her from inflicting injury upon herself. A very pleasant fact to
be conscious of, isn't it, Miss Burns, and haven't I good reason to feel
proud?"

"What you need," said Miss Burns, "is rest. I never thought--I beg your
pardon for saying so--that a man who outwardly makes the impression of
such strength can possess such a wee, trembling soul. What you ought to
do now, I should think, is simply cover up your past as much as possible.
All of us have to do some covering up in order to be fit for life."

"But I am altogether unfit," said Frederick. "This minute I am feeling
strong, because I am with someone in whose presence, for some reason or
other, I can wash myself in clean water--excuse me, I am speaking
euphemistically."

"You ought to concentrate on something, you ought to work," said Miss
Burns. "You ought to make yourself physically tired to the point of
exhaustion."

"Oh, my dear Miss Burns," cried Frederick, "how you overestimate me!
Work! I am no better than a tramp. The thing I thought to cure myself
with was laziness, idleness. Here I sit in a land discovered and
conquered as a result of the tremendous will power of the Europeans, with
my oars gone, my rudder gone and my last bit of free will. It is this
that distinguishes most men of to-day from the men of that time."

Coffee was served, and for a while Frederick and Miss Burns stirred the
sugar without speaking. Then Miss Burns asked:

"How did you come to lose your free will, as you say?"

"Theridium triste," said Frederick and suddenly recalled the simile of
the spider that Doctor Wilhelm had used in reference to Ingigerd. Miss
Burns, of course, did not understand him; but Frederick broke off, and
though she questioned him, refused to explain. She promptly withdrew her
question, saying she thought it was quite right and good for him if the
conversation lost its German philosophic cast and descended to the level
of a superficial person like herself.

"I advise you," she added, "no matter how sharply you may criticise
yourself for having travelled so many roads without reaching the end, to
strike out into a new r