y of me?" she said, with sudden nervous
anger. "You too? If you hadn't come to-night it would never have been
destroyed."

Her extreme tension of the nerves impelled her to an exhibition of
fierce bitterness which she could not control. She remembered how he
had loved her, with what violence and almost crazy frankness. Why had he
come? He might have remembered her as she was.

"I hate you for coming," she said, almost under her breath.

"I don't care. I had to come."

"Why? Why?"

"I told you. I want a saviour. I'm down in the pit. I can't get out. You
can see that for yourself."

"Yes," she answered, "I can see that."

"Give me a hand, Viola, and--you'll make me do something I've never
done, never been able to do."

"What?" she half whispered.

"Believe there's a God--who cares."

She drew in her breath sharply. Something warm surged through her. It
was not like fire. It was more like the warmth that comes from a warm
hand laid on a cold one. It surged through her and went away like a
travelling flood.

"What are you saying?" she said in a low voice. "You are mad to come
here to-night, to say this to me to-night."

"No. It's just to-night it had to be said."

Suddenly she resolved to tell him. He was in the pit. So was she. Well,
the condemned can be frank with one another though all the free have to
practise subterfuge.

"You don't know," she said, and her voice was quiet now. "You don't know
why it was mad of you to come to-night. I'll tell you. I've come out
here and I'm not going back again."

He kept his eyes on hers, but did not speak.

"I'm going to stay out here," she said.

And she let her hand fall over the side of the boat till her fingers
touched the water.

"No," he said. "You can't do that."

"Yes. I shall do it. I want to hide my face in the water."

"Give me a hand first, Viola."

Again the warmth went through her.

"Nobody else can."

"And you've looked at me!" she said.

There was a profound amazement in her voice.

"It's only when I look at you," he said, "that I know there are stars
somewhere beyond the pit's mouth."

"When you look at me--now?"

"Yes."

"But you are blind then?" she said.

"Or are the others blind?" he asked.

Instinctively, really without knowing what she did, she put up her hand
to her face, touched it, and no longer felt that it was ugly. For a
moment it seemed to her that her beauty was restored.

"What do you see?" she asked. "But--b