realize how far hatred will drive a woman until it pushes her over the
edge. I think he would hardly believe his own eyes even then, unless he
saw her laughing!" A burst of wild laughter broke from Violet's lips,
but she smothered it with her handkerchief.

"I mustn't laugh," she said, "though I'm sure she did. And I want to
talk to you seriously, Allegro."

"Dear, do lie down and rest!" Olga urged her gently. "That hateful story
has given you a shock. Do try and remember that there's nothing new
about it. It all happened years ago. And you are no different now than
you were this morning before you heard it."

Violet leaned her head back again upon the pillows, but her eyes roved
unceasingly. "But then I was mad this morning," she said, "only I didn't
know it. Do you know, I think madness is a sort of state in which people
lose their souls and yet go on living. Or else the soul goes blind. I've
thought of that too. But I think my soul has gone on. I shall go and
find it presently. You must help me."

"Of course I will help you, darling," Olga promised soothingly.

"Yes. But it won't be easy," said Violet, frowning upwards. "I've got to
go into a great space of lost souls, and I shan't find it very easily.
It was his fault. He never ought to have brought me back that night.
That's the worst of doctors. They are so keen about the body, but they
don't study the soul at all. They behave exactly as if the soul weren't
there."

"Look here, dear," said Olga, with sudden inspiration, "wouldn't you