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you! And you say you are to be wasted! God never meant it so, you beauty, you wonderful woman!" Even as she was about to speak, drawn by the passion of him, the agony of his cry, there came to the ears of both an arresting sound--one which it seemed to Josephine was not wholly strange to her ears.

It was like the cry of a babe, a child's wail, difficult to locate, indefinite in distance.
"What was it ?" she whispered.

"Did you hear ?" He made no answer, except to walk to her straight and take her by the arms, looking sadly, mournfully into her face.
"Ah, my God! My God! Have I not heard?
What else have I heard, these years?
And you're big enough not to ask-- "It can't endure this way," said he, after a time at last.