“Iknowperfectlywellwhatyoumean，“answeredEverett，thoughtfully。“Ihaveoftenfeltsoabouthimmyself。Andyetit’sdifficulttoprescribeforthosefellows；solittlemakes，solittlemars。“
　　Katharineraisedherselfuponherelbow，andherfaceflushedwithfeverishearnestness。“Ah，butitisthewasteofhimselfthatImean；hislashinghimselfoutonstupidanduncomprehendingpeopleuntiltheytakehimattheirownestimate。
　　Hecankindlemarble，strikefirefromputty，butisitworthwhatitcostshim？“
　　“Come，come，“expostulatedEverett，alarmedatherexcitement。
　　“Whereisthenewsonata？Lethimspeakforhimself。“
　　Hesatdownatthepianoandbeganplayingthefirstmovement，whichwasindeedthevoiceofAdriance，hisproperspeech。Thesonatawasthemostambitiousworkhehaddoneuptothattimeandmarkedthetransitionfromhispurelylyricveintoadeeperandnoblerstyle。Everettplayedintelligentlyandwiththatsympatheticcomprehensionwhichseemspeculiartoacertainlovableclassofmenwhoneveraccomplishanythinginparticular。
　　WhenhehadfinishedheturnedtoKatharine。
　　“Howhehasgrown！“shecried。“Whatthethreelastyearshavedoneforhim！Heusedtowriteonlythetragediesofpassion；butthisisthetragedyofthesoul，theshadowcoexistentwiththesoul。Thisisthetragedyofeffortandfailure，thethingKeatscalledhell。Thisismytragedy，asIlieherespentbytheracecourse，listeningtothefeetoftherunnersastheypassme。
　　Ah，God！Theswiftfeetoftherunners！“
　　Sheturnedherfaceawayandcovereditwithherstraininghands。Everettcrossedovertoherquicklyandkneltbesideher。
　　Inallthedayshehadknownhershehadneverbefore，beyondanoccasionalironicaljest，givenvoicetothebitternessofherowndefeat。Hercouragehadbecomeapointofpridewithhim，andtoseeitgoingsickenedhim。
　　“Don’tdoit，“hegasped。“Ican’tstandit，Ireallycan’t，Ifeelittoomuch。Wemustn’tspeakofthat；it’stootragicandtoovast。“
　　Whensheturnedherfacebacktohimtherewasaghostoftheold，brave，cynicalsmileonit，morebitterthanthetearsshecouldnotshed。“No，Iwon’tbesoungenerous；IwillsavethatforthewatchesofthenightwhenIhavenobettercompany。Nowyoumaymixmeanotherdrinkofsomesort。Formerly，whenitwasnotifIshouldeversingBrunnhilde，butquitesimplywhenI
　　shouldsingBrunnhilde，IwasalwaysstarvingmyselfandthinkingwhatImightdrinkandwhatImightnot。Butbrokenmusicboxesmaydrinkwhatsoevertheylist，andnoonecareswhethertheylosetheirfigure。Runoverthatthemeatthebeginningagain。
　　That，atleast，isnotnew。ItwasrunninginhisheadwhenwewereinVeniceyearsago，andheusedtodrumitonhisglassatthedinnertable。Hehadjustbeguntoworkitoutwhenthelateautumncameon，andthepalenessoftheAdriaticoppressedhim，andhedecidedtogotoFlorenceforthewinter，andlosttouchwiththethemeduringhisillness。Doyourememberthosefrightfuldays？Allthepeoplewhohavelovedhimarenotstrongenoughtosavehimfromhimself！WhenIgotwordfromFlorencethathehadbeenillIwasinNicefillingaconcertengagement。
　　HiswifewashurryingtohimfromParis，butIreachedhimfirst。
　　Iarrivedatdusk，inaterrificstorm。Theyhadtakenanoldpalacethereforthewinter，andIfoundhiminthelibrary——along，darkroomfullofoldLatinbooksandheavyfurnitureandbronzes。Hewassittingbyawoodfireatoneendoftheroom，looking，oh，sowornandpale！——ashealwaysdoeswhenheisill，youknow。Ah，itissogoodthatyoudoknow！Evenhisredsmokingjacketlentnocolortohisface。Hisfirstwordswerenottotellmehowillhehadbeen，butthatthatmorninghehadbeenwellenoughtoputthelaststrokestothescoreofhisSouvenirsd’Automne。HewasasImostliketorememberhim:
　　socalmandhappyandtired；notgay，asheusuallyis，butjustcontentedandtiredwiththatheavenlytirednessthatcomesafteragoodworkdoneatlast。Outside，therainpoureddownintorrents，andthewindmoanedforthepainofalltheworldandsobbedinthebranchesoftheshiveringolivesandaboutthewallsofthatdesolatedoldpalace。Howthatnightcomesbacktome！
　　Therewerenolightsintheroom，onlythewoodfirewhichgloweduponthehardfeaturesofthebronzeDante，likethereflectionofpurgatorialflames，andthrewlongblackshadowsaboutus；beyondusitscarcelypenetratedthegloomatall，Adriancesatstaringatthefirewiththewearinessofallhislifeinhiseves，andofalltheotherlivesthatmustaspireandsuffertomakeuponesuchlifeashis。Somehowthewindwithallitsworld-painhadgotintotheroom，andthecoldrainwasinoureyes，andthewavecameupinbothofusatonce——thatawful，vague，universalpain，thatcoldfearoflifeanddeathandGodandhope——andwewereliketwoclingingtogetheronasparinmidoceanaftertheshipwreckofeverything。Thenweheardthefrontdooropenwithagreatgustofwindthatshookeventhewalls，andtheservantscamerunningwithlights，announcingthatMadamhadreturned，’andinthebookwereadnomorethatnight。’“
　　Shegavetheoldlinewithacertainbitterhumor，andwiththehard，brightsmileinwhichofoldshehadwrappedherweaknessasinaglitteringgarment。Thatironicalsmile，wornlikeamaskthroughsomanyyears，hadgraduallychangedeventhelinesofherfacecompletely，andwhenshelookedinthemirrorshesawnotherself，butthescathingcritic，theamusedobserverandsatiristofherself。Everettdroppedhisheaduponhishandandsatlookingattherug。“Howmuchyouhavecared！“hesaid。
　　“Ah，yes，Icared，“shereplied，closinghereyeswithalong-drawnsighofrelief；andlyingperfectlystill，shewenton:“Youcan’timaginewhatacomfortitistohaveyouknowhowI
　　cared，whatareliefitistobeabletotellittosomeone。I
　　usedtowanttoshriekitouttotheworldinthelongnightswhenIcouldnotsleep。ItseemedtomethatIcouldnotdiewithit。
　　Itdemandedsomesortofexpression。Andnowthatyouknow，youwouldscarcelybelievehowmuchlesssharptheanguishofitis。“
　　Everettcontinuedtolookhelplesslyatthefloor。“Iwasnotsurehowmuchyouwantedmetoknow，“hesaid。
　　“Oh，IintendedyoushouldknowfromthefirsttimeIlookedintoyourface，whenyoucamethatdaywithCharley。IflattermyselfthatIhavebeenabletoconcealitwhenIchose，thoughI
　　supposewomenalwaysthinkthat。Themoreobservingonesmayhaveseen，butdiscerningpeopleareusuallydiscreetandoftenkind，forweusuallybleedalittlebeforewebegintodiscern。
　　ButIwantedyoutoknow；youaresolikehimthatitisalmostliketellinghimhimself。Atleast，Ifeelnowthathewillknowsomeday，andthenIwillbequitesacredfromhiscompassion，forwenoneofusdarepitythedead。Sinceitwaswhatmylifehaschieflymeant，Ishouldlikehimtoknow。OnthewholeIamnotashamedofit。Ihavefoughtagoodfight。“
　　“Andhasheneverknownatall？“askedEverett，inathickvoice。
　　“Oh！Neveratallinthewaythatyoumean。Ofcourse，heisaccustomedtolookingintotheeyesofwomenandfindinglovethere；whenhedoesn’tfindittherehethinkshemusthavebeenguiltyofsomediscourtesyandismiserableaboutit。Hehasagenuinefondnessforeveryonewhoisnotstupidorgloomy，oroldorpreternaturallyugly。Grantedyouthandcheerfulness，andamoderateamountofwitandsometact，andAdriancewillalwaysbegladtoseeyoucomingaroundthecorner。Isharedwiththerest；sharedthesmilesandthegallantriesandthedrolllittlesermons。ItwasquitelikeaSunday-schoolpicnic；weworeourbestclothesandasmileandtookourturns。Itwashiskindnessthatwashardest。Ihaveprettywellusedmylifeupatstandingpunishment。“
　　“Don’t；you’llmakemehatehim，“groanedEverett。
　　Katharinelaughedandbegantoplaynervouslywithherfan。
　　“Itwasn’tintheslightestdegreehisfault；thatisthemostgrotesquepartofit。Why，ithadreallybegunbeforeI
　　evermethim。Ifoughtmywaytohim，andIdrankmydoomgreedilyenough。“
　　Everettroseandstoodhesitating。“IthinkImustgo。Yououghttobequiet，andIdon’tthinkIcanhearanymorejustnow。“
　　Sheputoutherhandandtookhisplayfully。“You’veputinthreeweeksatthissortofthing，haven’tyou？Well，itmayneverbetoyourgloryinthisworld，perhaps，butit’sbeenthemercyofheaventome，anditoughttosquareaccountsforamuchworselifethanyourswilleverbe。“
　　Everettkneltbesideher，saying，brokenly:“IstayedbecauseI
　　wantedtobewithyou，that’sall。IhavenevercaredaboutotherwomensinceImetyouinNewYorkwhenIwasalad。Youareapartofmydestiny，andIcouldnotleaveyouifIwould。“
　　Sheputherhandsonhisshouldersandshookherhead。“No，no；don’ttellmethat。Ihaveseenenoughoftragedy，Godknows。Don’tshowmeanymorejustasthecurtainisgoingdown。
　　No，no，itwasonlyaboy’sfancy，andyourdivinepityandmyutterpitiablenesshaverecalleditforamoment。Onedoesnotlovethedying，dearfriend。Ifsomefancyofthatsorthadbeenleftoverfromboyhood，thiswouldridyouofit，andthatwerewell。Nowgo，andyouwillcomeagaintomorrow，aslongastherearetomorrows，willyounot？“Shetookhishandwithasmilethatliftedthemaskfromhersoul，thatwasbothcourageanddespair，andfullofinfiniteloyaltyandtenderness，asshesaidsoftly:
　　Foreverandforever，farewell，Cassius；
　　Ifwedomeetagain，why，weshallsmile；
　　Ifnot，whythen，thispartingwaswellmade。
　　Thecourageinhereyeswasliketheclearlightofastartohimashewentout。