He looked her up and down a moment with a black, morose gaze. "Why are you questioning me? What do you want to find out? Tell the young ladies of your class that I'm very grateful to them, tell them I'm touched by their sympathy, I--" An attack of coughing choked him. Lilly jumped up and looked about for help. She instinctively seized a glass from the folding-table, which was half filled with a pale liquid, and held it to his mouth. He groped for it eagerly. After drinking he fell back exhausted, and looked at her gratefully, tenderly. She returned his look with a feeble smile, thinking only one thought: "What happiness to be here!" It was so quiet in the dark, overheated room that she could hear the ticking of his watch, which hung on the wall not far away. He wanted to sit up and speak, but he seemed not to have recovered sufficient strength. Lilly gave him an imploring look of warning. He smiled and leaned back again. So they sat in silence. "What happiness!" thought Lilly. "What great, great happiness!" Then he stretched out his hands to her wearily. She took them in an eager grasp of both her own. They felt hot and clammy, and his pulse beat down to his finger-tips. It went twice as fast as hers, for she could feel hers, too. "Listen, child, sweet," he whispered. "I want to give you a piece of good advice to carry away with you. You have too much love in you. All three kinds: love of the heart, love of the senses, love springing from pity. One of them everybody must have if he's not to be a fossil. Two are dangerous. All three lead to ruin. Be on guard against your own love. Don't squander it. That's my advice, the advice of one on whom you cannot squander it, for I can use it--God knows how well I can use it!" "Have you nobody to stay with you?" she asked, dreading to hear that some other woman had the right to nurse him. He shook his head. "May I come again?" He started, struck by the ardour with which she asked the question. "If the class sends you again, of course." Lilly cast aside all reserve. "That was a lie," she stammered. "Not a soul knows I came here." He sprang to his feet, almost like a man in good health. His face lengthened, his eyes filled with tears. He stretched out his hands, which were trembling violently, as if to ward her off. "Go," he whispered. "Go!" Lilly did not stir. "If you don't go," he went on, excitement almost stifling his words, "you will ruin your future. Young ladies do not visit unmarried men who live the way I do--even if the man is their teacher and sick as I am. Tell no one that you have been here, no friend, not a single human being. Your livelihood depends upon your reputation. I cannot steal your bread. _Please go._" "May I never come again?" Her eyes pled with him. "No!!" he shouted in a voice like riven iron. Lilly felt herself being shoved through the doorway. The key was turned in the lock behind her. * * * * *