‘Why, what have I said?’ ‘You said to me my name. And now you are acting the cuckold, because I do not wish to waste my seed in your barren womb?\" She was too devastated to answer him. Abruptly, Gerald turned. The latter haughtily returned his salutation, and flung himself, as if exhausted, into a chair. For such of us as pretend to be wise—and we are but fools in a lesser degree—we know that humanity moves onward only by the impellant of fine dreams. But with the morning, the glorious unstained morning the passion of living would stir even the blood of a clod. How fortunate that she recognises the resemblance.
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