“That I cannot promise you,” replied the Doctor, “certainly not until I know what it is you are striving for. Remember, that I know but little of your doings, except that you shut yourself up in that little room for half the night and sit up poring over old books and manuscripts, long after you should be in bed and asleep. I conclude you study Witchcraft and Black Magic! Well! I am a Lutheran and have been reared to consider such studies wrong, and practised only by the children of the Devil, but I know nothing of them myself. What is your object in thus ruining your health? I cannot imagine any sane man who has duties in this world to fulfil, caring about such rubbish. True or false, leave it to those who have no more serious aim in life, and think only of your health and yourself!” Ricardo leaned back in his chair and smiled furtively. “Now, what is the use of it?” continued Steinberg, pertinaciously. The Professor answered the question in a way that startled him. “Have you ever loved?” he said. “You must tell me first what you mean by the word.” “Have you ever loved a woman intensely--passionately--loved her so much that your life was fused in her life--your soul in her soul?” The Doctor sat up in his chair and stared at his friend. For a moment he thought he had gone mad. “_Never!_” he said, emphatically. “As a rule, I have not cared for women. I look upon the sex as a necessary evil--something without which population cannot go on--without which, too, Nature could not exist--but as something also to be avoided as much as possible, and dealt with as little as may be!” Ricardo sighed. “Happy man!” he ejaculated at last, “you are to be envied, Steinberg. You have missed great happiness, and great pain.” “Happiness!” echoed Steinberg, “is it possible, Signor, that your grave demeanour and your mysterious studies have anything to do with a woman?” “They have everything--everything, to do with it,” exclaimed the elder man, excitedly. “Steinberg, I have never told you my history. You do not even know who I am! If I confide in you, will you hold my confidence sacred?” The Doctor held out his hand. “Most certainly I will. There is my hand on it. But do not stir up painful memories for my sake, Professor! If you are endeavouring to forget the Past, let it lie in it’s grave!” “I wish you to hear it,” replied Ricardo, “I am old, I might go any day. You are my only friend. I should like you to know the truth before we part!” “Why do you talk of yourself as an old man? What age are you?” “I was forty-nine on my last birthday.” “Nonsense! You are in the prime of life. This intelligence still further confirms my belief that your appearance and weakness are due to your unnatural studies alone.”