'Be careful!' she whispered. 'They'll hear!' She made a small effort to free her hand. For a moment they stood tugging at each other. When Henry spoke, in an effort to appear the off-hand man of the world he assuredly was not, his voice sounded weak and husky. 'Whew--strong!' 'Suppose I slapped.' 'Slap all you like.' 'What would Martha Caldwell say?' There was a gloomy sort of anger on Henry's red face. He jerked her violently toward him. 'Stop! You're hurting my wrist!' With which she yielded a little. He found himself about to take her in his arms. He heard her whispering--'For Heaven's sake be careful! They'll surely hear!' He was most unhappy. He pushed her roughly away, and rushed to the window., He knew from the silence that she was lingering. He hated her. And himself. She said: 'Well, you needn't get mad.' Then, slowly, cautiously, she let herself out. He heard her moving composedly along the hall. He felt weak. And deeply guilty. For a long time this moment had been a possibility; now it had taken place. What if some one had seen her come in! What if she should come again! What if she should tell!... He found one hair brush on the floor, the other on the bed, and brushed his hair; donned his coat, buttoning it and smoothing it down about his shapely torso with a momentary touch of complacency; glanced at the mirror; twisted up his moustache; then stood waiting for his colour to go down. Suddenly, with one of his quick impulses, he sprang at the bookcase, drew out the _Epictetus_--it was a little book, bound in 'ooze' calf of an olive-green colour--and read these words (the book opened there):-- 'To the rational animal only is the irrational intolerable. He lowered the book and repeated the phrase aloud. 3 A little later--red about the ears, and given to sudden starts when the swinging pantry doors opened to let a student waiter in or out--he sat, quite erect, in the dining room and bolted a boarding-house breakfast of stewed prunes, oatmeal, fried steak, fried potatoes, fried mush swimming in brown sugar syrup, and coffee. The _Discourses of Epictetus_ lay at his elbow. After this he walked--stiffly self-conscious, book under arm--over to Simpson Street, and took a chair and an _Inter Ocean_ at Schultz and Schwartz's, among the line of those waiting to be shaved. This accomplished he paused outside, on the curb, to pencil this entry in a red pocket account-book:-- 'Shave--10 c.' He wavered when passing Donovan's; stepped in and consumed a frosted maple shake. Which necessitated the further entry in the red book:-- 'Soda--10 c.' In front of Berger's grocery he met Martha Caldwell. They walked together to the corner.