"Is courage," asked René, "all that is necessary?" "I think so. It is only lack of courage that has made rules of conduct and religious maxims and precepts--crutches and props. We're all very stupid at conduct, but if we live by rule and habit there is no hope of our getting any better." "But you have rules for your hostel." "I always allow them to be broken when there is anything to be gained by it. I love defiance, but I hate slyness. Rules must be broken, they must not be evaded. But we are beginning to talk for the sake of talking, and Cathleen is nearly asleep. I'm glad you have had a good day." "Such a day," he said, "as I never had. I seem to have found that for which I have always been searching, and it has made everything valuable, even those things that I have most hated." "I hope," said Lotta, "that you don't think you have arrived at any conclusion. It is impossible to decide anything about life. It is possible only to live--sometimes." They went to bed very early. The wind had risen to. a gale and screamed in the chimneys and the eaves. Hardly had René sunk into sleep, the quick easy slumber of health and peace, than he was roused by a fearful din. Leaping out of bed, he ran to the window and opened it. The wind came rushing in upon his bare chest and made him gasp for breath. Out on the road was a crowd of men armed with rattles, tin cans, kettles, baths, which they banged and whirled in the air as they marched solemnly up the road to the next cottage. There they moved slowly up and down, making a terrible noise and chanting: There's evil enough between wind and water Without your tumbling of the farmer's daughter. Do you hear Billy Bows behind the door? There's no honest girl shall be a whore, With a billy, billy, billy, Billy blow. They kept this up for a couple of hours in the wind and the rain, until at last with three groans and hoots they broke up and trailed off into the darkness. René asked Lotta next morning what they might be doing, and she told him that the man in the cottage was an unpopular character who had been annoying and molesting a girl in the village. "That is public opinion. They wouldn't have minded if he had been a popular man, or a rich man. They would have blamed the girl in that case." Lotta was staying on for a day or two. René took Cathleen back to London. He told her he was going to his work and Mitcham Mews and Ann. "You heard what Lotta said?" "About the noise last night and the girl?" "Yes. I think it's true. Ann will be blamed by her own class." "Would you like me to go and see her?" "I don't know. I'll tell you that when I have got things straight with her--if I ever do." "I can wait, René," she said. "Time doesn't seem to matter now. Isn't Lotta splendid?" "Splendid!" They shook hands as they parted, and each promised to write. IV EXPLANATION