Another setting for romance.
But romance—at least for tonight—has not found its way to the studio in the woods.
There was perhaps some intuition, some forewarning of disaster in the mind of Robert Hale. He walked abstractedly, untouched by the beauty of the night.
He was deep in the inner experience of the conception of a new picture.
He entered his house.
There is a woman, sir.
A woman——but I want to be alone.
The old servant slept—roused for a moment by the closing of a door.
She's gone, he muttered—and slept again.