A shadow fell across her paper and she looked up. She shrank and
clasped her hands tightly against her bosom. ``Mr. Feuerstein!''
she exclaimed in a low, agitated voice.

He stood silent, his face ghastly as if he were very ill. His
eyes, sunk deep in blue-black sockets, burned into hers with an
intensity that terrified her. She began slowly to retreat.

``Do not fly from me,'' he said in a hollow voice, leaning
against the counter weakly. ``I have come only for a moment.
Then--you will see me never again!''

She paused and watched him. His expression, his tone, his words
filled her with pity for him.

``You hate me,'' he went on. ``You abhor me. It is just--just!
Yet''--he looked at her with passionate sadness--``it was because
I loved you that I deceived you. Because--I--loved you!''

``You must go away,'' said Hilda, pleading rather than
commanding. ``You've done me enough harm.''

``I shall harm you no more.'' He drew himself up in gloomy
majesty. ``I have finished my life. I am bowing my farewell.
Another instant, and I shall vanish into the everlasting night.''

``That would be cowardly!'' exclaimed Hilda. She was profoundly
moved. ``You have plenty to live for.''

``Do you forgive me, Hilda?'' He gave her one of his looks of