"Yes, I know. But he doesn't hate me. He doesn't think about me. He's mother's friend and not even my enemy. Do tell me, Miss Fleet--or may I call you Susan to-day?" "Of course, and to-morrow, too." "Thank you. You've seen lots of people. Do you think I have personality? Do you think I--am I just like everyone else? That's such a hideous idea! Have I anything that stamps me? Am I a little different from all the other girls--you know, in our sort of set? Do tell me!" There was something humble in her quivering eagerness that quite touched Susan Fleet. "No, I don't think you're just like everyone else." "You aren't. And he isn't. He's not in the least like any other man I ever saw. That's the dreadful part of it. I can't imagine why I care for him, and that's why I know I shall never care for anyone else." "Perhaps he likes you." "No, no! No, I'm sure he doesn't. He thinks, like everyone else, that I have nothing particular in me. But it isn't true. Susan, sometimes we know a thing by instinct--don't we?" "Certainly. Instinct is often the experience of the past working within us." "Well, I know that I am the woman who could make Claude Heath famous, who could do for him what he could never do for himself. He has genius, I believe. Max Elliot says so. And I feel it when I'm with him. But he has no capacity for using it, as it ought to be used, to dominate the world. He's never been in the world. He knows, and wishes to know, nothing of it. That's absurd, isn't it? We ought to give, if we have anything extraordinary to give. Oh, if you knew how I've longed and pined to be extraordinary!" "Extraordinary? In what way?" "In gifts, in talent! I've suffered dreadfully because I simply can't endure just to be one of the silly, dull crowd. But lately--quite lately--I've begun to realize what I could be, do. I could be the perfect wife to a great man. Don't laugh at me!" "I'm not laughing." "Aren't you? You are a dear! I knew you would understand. You see I've always been among people who matter. I've always known clever men who've made their names. I've always breathed in the atmosphere of culture. I'm at home in the world. I know how to take people. I have social capacities. Now he's quite different. The fact is, I have all he hasn't. And he has what I haven't, his talent. He's remarkable. Anyone would feel it in an instant. I believe he's a great man _manque_ because of a sort of kink in his temperament. And--I know that I could get rid of that kink _if_--" She stopped. The tears rushed into her eyes. "Oh, isn't it awful to be madly in love with a man who doesn't care for you?" she exclaimed, almost fiercely. "I'm not," returned Susan Fleet, quietly. "But I daresay it is." "When I look at that island--" Charmian stopped and took out her handkerchief. After using it she said, in a way that made Susan think of a fierce little cat spitting: "But I will bring out what is in me! I will not let all my capacities go to rust."