"She won't mind--after she sees you," he answered, loyally. "No one can know you without--without--Oh, hang it, Viola, you know what I mean. Nothing matters when you love a person. I want you, no matter what any one says. And, besides, I don't see why you can't just chuck the whole blooming business. I'll chuck Clarke out o' the window, if you say the word. He's just trying to work you, and--" "You mustn't talk that way, Clinton." "Why not? It's true." "Well, because--" She hesitated, then said, as if to end her own uncertainty: "I am committed to this life--and to him. My way is marked out, and I must walk in it." The young fellow was hard hit. He sat looking at her with eyes of consternation and awe. He tried to speak, but could not for a little while; at last he made a second trial. "Do you mean--you _don't_ mean--" "Yes, I mean--all you think I mean," she answered, and then her fortitude failed her, and she turned away, her eyes filled with hot tears. He rose awkwardly, all his jaunty self-confidence gone. "I take my medicine. It's all right. I hope you'll be happy--" He broke off with quivering lips. "I shall never be happy," she said, and the very calmness of her voice went to the boy's heart. "I've given up all hope of being anything but an instrument--a thing whose wishes do not count. Good-bye, Clint," and she gave her hand. He took it and pressed it hard and went out into the street, staggering under the weight of the revelation he had received. Viola was fond of Clinton--his simple, wholesome, untroubled nature appealed to her--and yet this very ingenuousness, this ready confidence, made her own life and daily habit seem the more forbidding. She understood now the insuperable barrier which had been raised between herself and the careless youth of the normal world. In this hour of depression, as in many others, her mind went out towards Morton Serviss. Britt's mention of the young scientist's name seemed to bring him very near, and she wondered again for the hundredth time whether he had entirely forgotten her or not. Would he call, now that he was informed of her presence in the city? She knew (almost as well as if he had written it) the reason for his hasty flight from Colorow, and with a knowledge that he considered her a freak if not something worse she could not write to him, although she still had his card and address.