"I haven't heard anybody hint at such a thing," she answered quietly.

"No, of course, YOU haven't heard them!" he cried. "I heard them,
though!" Then, forcing himself to a sitting posture, against the
restraint of her hand, he flung back the covering. "I'm burning hot
already! Yes, those were the identical words: I haven't improved; I've
degenerated. People hate me; they won't have me in their houses. They
say I'm a nuisance and a bore. I'm like a little nasty boy. That's what
they say. Even a young man who was dying--lying right on the edge of his
open grave--told me solemnly that I reminded him of a saint once, but I
was only fit for a barkeeper now. They say I really don't know anything
at all. And I'm not only a fool, they say, I'm a dishonest fool into the
bargain!"

"But who says such twaddle as that?" she returned consolingly. The
violence of his emotion disturbed her. "You mustn't imagine such things.
You are among friends here. Other people are your friends, too. They
have the very highest opinion of you."

"I haven't a friend on earth but you!" he declared solemnly. His eyes
glowed fiercely, and his voice sank into a grave intensity of tone. "I
was going to kill myself. I went on to the big bridge to throw myself
off, and a policeman saw me trying to climb over the railing, and he
grabbed me and marched me away. Then he threw me out at the entrance,
and said he would club my head off if I came there again. And then I
went and stood and let the cable-cars pass close by me, and twenty times
I thought I had the nerve to throw myself under the next one, and then
I waited for the next--and I was afraid! And then I was in a crowd
somewhere, and the warning came to me that I was going to die. The fool
needn't go kill himself: God would take care of that. It was my heart,