Then suddenly an inward voice seemed to commence repeating over and over again, "There is nothing so dead as a dead love. There is nothing so dead as a dead love. Nothing so dead, nothing, nothing!" It was maddening. The unhesitating certainty--the calm conviction animating the phrase--brought final despair. In it she heard a call, inspired by the wisdom of ages, the outcome of the most bitter experience of long generations of mankind; a call to abandon efforts that were predestined to be sterile. It was as if she were abruptly faced by the inscription that Dante read over the gateways of hell. Sitting erect, she lifted her voice in lamentation. "Oh, Morris, darling, you can't change so utterly. You're the same man. I'm still the same woman. How many times did you swear you would love me always and ever--always and ever--and now I'm only just twenty!" she wailed, catching at his arm and pressing her cheek to his coat-sleeve, while her sobs grew louder and more convulsive. Morris, already wearied, felt a tiny twinge of compunction, and was thereupon easily moved to anger by her impassioned weeping. "For goodness' sake, Evarne, do let us have an end to this ridiculous scene," he said roughly, shaking himself free from her despairing hold. "Do recognise the fact that not all the pleading in the world will have any effect on me. If you don't pull yourself together you'll have hysterics in a moment, and I've no patience with hysterical women." The action, the cruel words themselves, and the tone in which they were uttered, combined to goad the girl to sudden wrath. She sprang to her feet, and without a moment's hesitation frantically struck him on the chest with her clenched fist. "Don't think I shall ask anything of you now--no, not so much as your patience," she cried. "I don't intend to plead with any man for his love, least of all with you--don't think it! I never want to see you again, never! Go to Mrs. Belmont--go and make her your mistress." Morris allowed himself to be thoroughly angered by the blow. "Thanks for the permission," he said curtly; "but it happens to be quite unnecessary, as we have not waited for it." He now anticipated being deluged beneath a torrent of words, but though her lips parted, Evarne stood quite speechless, only blinking her eyes a little, as if bewildered and dazed. Then she slowly retreated backwards across the room step by step, until she was brought to a standstill by reaching the china cabinet. Leaning against it, she turned her head from side to side for a minute or two, then, producing a flimsy, ineffectual little handkerchief, proceeded, with strange, unlooked-for composure, to wipe her eyes and tear-stained cheeks. "So now you see you may just as well be sensible and resigned, eh?" suggested Morris, with forced carelessness.