“You might be sympathetic enough to realize that you no longer have only your own morbid humors to consider.”

“Pardon me, I am selfish.”

“So early?”

“You shall reform me.”

Ophelia flashed a queer look at him from her strangely magnetic eyes. A sudden quick spasm of passion seemed to pass through both frames. The electric sentiment met—and sparked desire. Gabriel colored under his straw hat.

“You have wonderful eyes.”

“Have I? Well—”

“I suppose we cannot help it.”

“What does it matter?”

The man sighed.