"Rather the law which calls it stolen. The distinction is a difficult one to make. However, you may believe me in this: so long as we are not permeated with the religion of self-exaltation--do you understand me, child?--so long as we haven't rooted out the words 'attachment' and 'duty' from our thoughts, our road is not perfect. We continue to knock our toes on the crushed stones that the others heap up ahead of us under the pretext that they are levelling the way." "Sometimes they do," said Lilly, recalling all the good things she had received from Richard. He smiled at her with compassionate indulgence. "You seem to be suffering from what I call chain madness." "What is that?" asked Lilly, suspecting, to her dismay, that he again divined what lay in her innermost being. Could he know of the shameful rôle that a certain chained beauty had played in her life? "It is said," he continued, "that if galley slaves who have worn chains for many years are liberated, they cannot endure their freedom. They complain that their arms and legs have been chopped off. They miss the support and weight of their chains. You have such beautiful arms for stretching upward. Just exercise them a little." "And such long legs for running away," she supplemented with a tortured laugh. "The only question is: Whither?" "Oh, oh! Why run away immediately?" he asked, stroking her hand, which rested on his arm, and speaking as to a child. "You would simply run into the arms of another so-called duty. First you must be free inwardly. You must first forget to fetch and carry for persons who are themselves meant to fetch and carry." "Teach me," she burst out. "I will bring you some books," he said, as if deliberating, "books which will lead you back to yourself. To-morrow at noon, I will--" At that moment they were separated. In bed Lilly lay with clasped hands smiling up at the ceiling. She was again aspiring to the heights. * * * * * But the next day when he was to come, dread fell upon her again, dread of him, of Richard, of herself. It was the first secret visit, the first to knock a breach in the peace of her home. When she saw him step from the cab with several volumes in his arm, she flew into the kitchen and told the maid to say she was not at home. But the instant he left she seized the books which he had brought. Some were printed in Roman type and looked dreadfully scientific. However, they were intelligible, and Lilly took up one after the other. What she read sent the blood coursing turbulently through her veins, and mounted to her head like sweet wine.