"'Of course not.'
"'Then why do you steal away from me, make a pretext to come here? Isn't my love great enough for you? Do you want to put me out of your life altogether? You used to tell me that I inspired you. If you want, we'll give up the afternoons. I'll come here, I'll be your model, I'll sit for you by the hour—only don't shut the door on me!'
"She began to cry. I took her in my arms, said everything that she wished me to say, heedlessly, brutally, not caring what I said.
"That night I ran off, resolved to end it all—to save what I longed for. I remained five hours trudging in the night—pulled back and forth. I remembered my children. I came back,—told a lie. The next day I shut the door of the studio not on her, but on myself.
"For months I did nothing. I was miserable. She saw it at last, and said to me:
"'You ought to work. You aren't happy doing nothing. I've arranged something for you.'
"I raised my head in amazement, as she continued, clapping her hands with delight:
"'I've talked it all over with papa. You'll go into his office. You'll do big things. He's quite enthusiastic, and I promised for you.'
"I went. I became interested. I stayed. Now I am like any other man, domesticated, conservative, living my life, and she has not the slightest idea of what she has killed."
"Let us go in," said Herkimer, rising.