And there I lived out my brief heart-life, for there I met Valerie Troubetskoi.

No one seemed to know where Pierre had found her, but later I learned her story from her own lips.
"That is, all of the story of a woman's heart-life which is ever unveiled to any man! She was beautiful beyond--compare, her wistful tenderness shining out as the moon, softer than the fierce noonday glare of the passion-transfigured faces of our Polish beauties.

For they loved, for Love's own sake, and Valerie Troubetskoi offered up the chalice of her own heart in silent sadness.

I never saw so lovely a being." "Did she look like that ?" suddenly demanded Hawke, thrusting a photograph before the haggard eyes of the broken artist.

He gasped, and tears gathered in his lashes.