ff; proofs of full-page advertisements in which
"Sypher's Cure" and "Friend of Humanity" figured in large capitals; the
model of Edinburgh Castle, built by a grateful inmate of a lunatic asylum
out of the red celluloid boxes of the Cure.

He shuddered at all these symbols and images of false gods, and bowed his
head again on his arms. The abyss swallowed him. The waters closed over his
head.

How long he remained like this he did not know. He had forbidden his door.
The busy life of the office stood still. The dull roar of Moorgate Street
was faintly heard, and now and then the windows vibrated faintly. The
sprawling, gilt, mid-Victorian clock on the mantelpiece had stopped.

Presently an unusual rustle in the room caused him to raise his head with a
start. Zora Middlemist stood before him. He sprang to his feet.

"You? You?"

"They wouldn't let me in. I forced my way. I said I must see you."

He stared at her, open-mouthed. A shivering thrill passed through him,
such as shakes a man on the verge of a great discovery.

"You, Zora? You have come to me at this moment?"

He looked so strange and staring, so haggard and disheveled, that she moved
quickly to him and laid both her hands on his.

"My dear friend, my dearest friend, is it as bad as that?"

A throb of pain underlay the commonplace words. The anguish on his face
stirred the best and most womanly in her. She yearned to comfort him. But
he drew a pace or two away, and held up both hands as if warding her off,
and stared at her still, but with a new light in his clear eyes that drank
in her beauty and the sorcery of her presence.

"My God!" he cried, in a strained voice. "My God! What a fool I've been!"

He swerved as if he had received a blow and sank into his office chair, and
turned his eyes from her to the ground, and sat stunned with joy and wonder
and misery. He put out a hand blindly, and she took it, standing by his
side. He knew now what he wanted. He wanted her, the woman. He wanted her
voice in his ears, her kiss on his lips, her dear self in his arms. He
wanted her welcome as he entered his house, her heart, her soul, her mind,
her body, everything that was hers. He loved her for herself, passionately,
overwhelmingly, after the simple way of men. He had raised his eyes from
the deeps of hell, and in a flash she was revealed to him--incarnate
heaven.

He felt the touch of her gloved hand on his, and it sent a thrill through
his veins which a