"Then if the man you knew was the original of that photograph he certainly is not dead. If you wish, I will send my man for him." "Ah, no!" she cried, putting up her hand in quick alarm. "He has suffered enough--I have suffered enough. No, no; we must not meet--we cannot. I tell you he is dead--and his body lies unmarked in the suicides' cemetery at Monte Carlo." I shrugged my shoulders, declaring that my statement should be sufficient to convince her. Quickly, however, she turned to me, and with her gloved hand upon my arm, besought me to release her. "Hate me!" she implored. "Go to your friend, if he really is alive as you declare, and ask of him my character--who and what I am." "I shall never hate you--I cannot!" I declared, bending again towards her and seeking her hand, but she instantly withdrew it, looking into my face with an expression of annoyance. "You disbelieve me!" she said. "All that you say is so bewildering that I know not what to believe," I answered. "In this room you have, I suppose, discovered certain objects reduced to ashes?" she asked in a hoarse tone. "Yes, I have," I answered breathlessly. "Then let them be sufficient to illustrate the influence of evil which lies within me," she answered, and after a pause suddenly added: "I came here to fulfil that which the irresistible power has decreed; but I will leave you to reflect. If you have regard for me, then hate me. Transfer your affections to Muriel Moore, the woman who really loves you; the woman who weeps because you refrain from caressing her; the woman who is wearing out her life because of you." She held her breath, her lips trembled and her hands quivered, as though the effort of speaking had been too great. "I love you!" I cried. "I cannot forget you, Aline. I adore you!" "No, no!" she said, holding up both her hands. "Enough! I only pray that the evil I dread may not befall you. Farewell!" and bowing low she turned, and swept out of the room, leaving me alone, bewildered, dumbfounded. The words she had uttered were completely confounding. She was apparently possessed of attainments which were supernatural; indeed, she seemed to me as a visitant from the Unknown, so strangely had she spoken; so mysterious had been her allegations regarding Roddy. For nearly an hour I remained deep in thought, plunged in abject despair. Aline the beautiful had left me, urging me to transfer my affections. The situation was extraordinary. She had, it seemed, gone out of my life for ever.