"How lonely!" added Madison. Bitterly he exclaimed: "It reminds me of my own life."
Quickly she looked up at him. It was unusual for him to speak of himself.
"Are you lonely?" she demanded.
He nodded.
"Often."
She looked puzzled, not understanding.
"Why are you lonely? You are young and strong and clever. The world is before you——"
He remained silent for a moment, without replying. In the uncertain light of the late afternoon, she could see that his eyes were fixed steadily on her. In them was a look that every woman understands, be she pure or impure. Then slowly, his deep, bass voice beautifully modulated, he said gravely:
"I am lonely because I am alone. All these years, ever since I was a boy, I have spent my life alone. I have had many so-called friends—yes; but even friends do not satisfy the longing to have some one still nearer and dearer, some one to whom you can turn in trouble, some one who will be always there to share in your joys. Work—yes, I can work, but why should I strive and toil? For myself? Bah—I'm sick of it all. To live alone, as I do, is not worth the effort it costs. Sometimes I think I'd just as soon blow out my brains as not. What's the use of straining every nerve and sweating blood to make a success in life if there's no one to share success with when it comes?"
She understood. A thrill ran through her entire being. Her heart throbbed violently and her lips trembled as she said gently: