“I mean that you must recognise that we are bound up with each other. I don’t mind _what_ you decide to do, but you must do something. I cannot go on living like this any longer. Please arrange somehow for us to see each other and talk it over.” It was Cromartie now who was embarrassed and shy; Cromartie who could not talk simply about what he felt, at least not for a considerable time. At last, however, he got out a few disconnected remarks, saying he was very sorry but he could do nothing then, and that he was not a free agent. But in the end he got more confidence and looked Josephine straight in the eyes and said: “My dear, it’s quite inevitable that both of us should be unhappy. I love you, if you want me to put it in that way. I cannot ever forget you, and now you seem to be feeling the same for me, and you too must expect to be very unhappy. I only hope your feeling for me will wear off. I daresay it will in time, and I hope my feeling for you will also. Until then we must try and be resigned.” “I am not resigned,” said Josephine. “I’m going to get savage about it, or go mad or something.” “It’s the greatest mistake for us to stir up each other’s feelings,” said Cromartie rather roughly. “That’s the worst thing we can either of us do, the most unkind thing. No, the only thing for you to do is to forget me, the only hope for me is to forget you.” “That’s impossible; it’s worse when we don’t see each other,” said Josephine. Just then they realised that several people had come into the Ape-house and were hesitating to interrupt their conversation. “It’s a bad business,” said Cromartie, “a damned bad business,” and at these words Josephine went away. He turned away and sat down, but a moment later he heard a loud “Excuse me, Sah. Excuse an intrusion, but I believe, Sah, that your young lady friend’s christian name is Josephine. That is a remarkable coincidence! for my own name, you know, is Joseph. Joseph and Josephine.” If, on hearing this remark, Mr. Cromartie gave Tennison any encouragement to continue, it was quite accidental. At the moment he was feeling faint, and only by an effort of will continued standing where he was without clutching hold of the bars. “Are you interested in the girls?” asked the negro. “They come and watch me all the morning, and they do stare so ... he, he, he.” “No, I’m not interested,” said Mr. Cromartie. Nobody could have mistaken the desperate sincerity in his voice. “I’m glad to hear that,” said Tennison, at once restored to his former heartiness and buoyancy of manner.