ances to theatres and restaurants just for the pleasure of
looking at them with other men. It didn't do me any good, you know, but
the desire was there. I wanted a companion like those other men had.
Beatrice was the only woman I knew. I didn't choose her. It wasn't the
selective instinct that made her attractive to me. It was because she was
the only one. I never felt anything great when I was with her," he went
on hoarsely. "I knew very well that ours were ordinary feelings. She was
in the same position that I was. There was no one else for her, either.
Do you want me to go on?"

She hesitated.

"Don't be afraid--I am not quite mad," he continued, "only I'll answer
for you the part of your question you don't put into words. Beatrice was
nothing to me but an interpretress of her sex. I never loved her. If I
had, we might in our misery have done the wildest, the most foolish
things. I will tell you why I know so clearly that I never loved her. I
have known it since you have been kind to me, since I have realised what
a wonderful thing a woman can be, what a world she can make for the man
who cares, whom she cares for."

Her fingers gripped his tightly.

"And now," she said, "I know all that I want to know and all that it is
well for us to speak of just now. Dear friend, will you remember that you
are sharing your burden with me, and that I, who am accounted something
in the world and who know life pretty thoroughly, believe in you and hope
for you."

They paused for a moment by the side of the steamer rail. She understood
so well his speechlessness. She drew her hand away from his and held it
to his lips.

"Please kiss my fingers," she begged. "That is just the seal of our
friendship in these days. See how quickly we seem to plough our way
through the water. Listen to the throbbing of that engine, always towards
a new world for you, my friend. It is to be an undiscovered country. Be
brave, keep on being brave, and remember--"

The words seemed to die away upon her lips. A shower of spray came
glittering into the dim light, like flakes of snow falling with
unexpected violence close to them. He drew her cloak around her and
moved back.

"Now," she said, "I think we will smoke, and perhaps, if you made
yourself very agreeable to the steward in the smoking room, you could get
some coffee."

"One moment," he pleaded. "Remember what? Don't you realise that there is
just one word I still need, one little word to cr