the American War of Independence, or something by Romney in the
Louvre."

The Chaplain shifted uneasily in his seat. Now that the
alternatives had been suggested they all seemed dreadfully possible.

"I fell in love, or thought I did, with the local doctor's wife,"
continued the condemned. "Why I should have done so, I cannot say,
for I do not remember that she possessed any particular attractions
of mind or body. On looking back at past events if seems to me that
she must have been distinctly ordinary, but I suppose the doctor had
fallen in love with her once, and what man had done man can do. She
appeared to be pleased with the attentions which I paid her, and to
that extent I suppose I might say she encouraged me, but I think she
was honestly unaware that I meant anything more than a little
neighbourly interest. When one is face to face with Death one
wishes to be just."

The Chaplain murmured approval. "At any rate, she was genuinely
horrified when I took advantage of the doctor's absence one evening
to declare what I believed to be my passion. She begged me to pass
out of her life, and I could scarcely do otherwise than agree,
though I hadn't the dimmest idea of how it was to be done. In
novels and plays I knew it was a regular occurrence, and if you
mistook a lady's sentiments or intentions you went off to India and
did things on the frontier as a matter of course. As I stumbled
along the doctor's carriagedrive I had no very clear idea as to what
my line of action was to be, but I had a vague feeling that I must
look at the Times Atlas before going to bed. Then, on the dark and
lonely highway, I came suddenly on a dead body."