I did know her, the winter you were abroad. We were a great deal together. It was a rare friendship, a peculiarly vivid and stimulating one for me. She had a rich nature full of surprises, and perhaps I may have drawn from her more than had been demanded before. I am a taxing friend, Mr. Roberts. [_ROBERTS rises._] ROBERTS. I have given you my confidence, Mr. Tanner. TANNER. And I will be equally frank. If you still wish it, I will read the letter to you, but I will warn you first that you will find it extraordinarily painful. ROBERTS. That doesn’t matter now. Read it, please. TANNER. [_Taking out the letter from his pocket._] I have never received anything in my life that has touched me more profoundly. I am awed by it. I feel as if I should touch the very paper with reverence. ROBERTS. May I have it? [_ROBERTS stands with his back to TANNER and with his arms folded._] TANNER. [_Unfolds the letter slowly._] The letter reached me only tonight by registered mail. I have been away. There was a note from James Douglas. [_Reads._] DEAR MR. TANNER: I am discharging a sacred obligation in sending you the enclosed. I need not tell you that the confidence given me is equally sacred. Yours truly, JAMES DOUGLAS. [Illustration: TANNER: YOU FORGET THAT I AM A NOVELIST] ROBERTS. I understand—go on. TANNER. [_Reading._] Oh Jim, dear old Jim—I am so wildly happy tonight I must talk to someone, and you’re such a good friend! If you were only here! Such a wonderful thing has happened to me, Jim—such a strange, exalting, beautiful thing. I did not know love was like this—I did not know anyone could be so happy—[_TANNER glances at ROBERTS, uncertain whether he can go on, then continues_] for I’m in love, Jim dear, in love, like a girl of eighteen. There, I’ve said it and I dare say it again—I’m in love. I love him! I love him! I love him! and if I must suffer all the rest of my life, still I shall have known what love meant, for I never have, Jim—never. I turn to you, my old friend, because I have no one else, no one to whom I can speak, and that which is in my heart will not be held in. Oh, I know it’s mad, wild folly. It will mean dreadful pain somewhere ahead—but tonight, tonight is mine! and I can fling out my arms to the stars and sing and shout with the joy and the glory and the beauty. We have been together all day, talking, talking, talking, there was so much to say, and now I can hear his grave voice, his sudden laugh—I can feel the pressure of his hand as he said good-night. He is coming again tomorrow and we are going to take our lunch and go for a long tramp, and for a day the world, the whole wide world will be ours.