ily driven to declare
their falsehood. And so I, after the manner of my kind, was driven to
take refuge in a dream. The subjective, in some form or other, alone
makes life continuously possible. And all this, we now look at,
determined the special nature of my attempt at subjective support and
consolation."

Richard paused again, contemplating the view.

"All this--its splendour, its diversity, its caprices and seductions,
its suggestion of underlying danger--presented itself to me as the
embodiment of a personality that has had remarkable influence in the
shaping of my life."

So far Helen had listened intently and silently. Now she moved a
little, straightening up her charming figure, pulling down the wide
brim of her hat to shelter her eyes from the heat and brightness of the
sun.

"A woman?" she asked briefly.

Richard turned to her, that same flickering of mockery in his still
face.

"Oh! you mustn't require too much of me!" he said. "Remember the
simpleton was not wholly eradicated then.--Yes, very much a woman. Of
course. How should it be otherwise? It gave me great pleasure to look
at that which looked like her. It gives me pleasure even yet. So I
wrote and asked de Vallorbes to be kind enough to let me rent the
villa. You remember it was not particularly well cared for. There was
an air of fallen greatness about the poor place. Inside it was
something of a barrack."

"I remember," Helen said.

"Well, I restored and refurnished it--specially the rooms you now
occupy, in accordance with what I imagined to be her taste. The whole
proceeding was not a little feeble-minded, since the probability of her
ever inhabiting those rooms was more than remote. But it amused, it
pacified me, as prayer to their self-invented deities pacifies the
devout. I never stay here for long together. If I did the spell might
be broken. I go away, I travel. I even experiment in things not usually
spoken of, but with a cooler judgment and less morbidly sensitive
conscience than of old. I amuse myself after more active and practical
fashions in other places. Here I amuse myself only with my idea."

The even flow of his speech ceased.--"What do you think of it, Helen?"
he demanded, almost harshly.

"I think it can't last. It is too intangible, too fantastic."

"I admit that to keep it intact needs an infinity of precautions. For
instance, I can make no near acquaintance with Naples. I cannot permit
myself to see the town at c