He saw everything; he watched the bright, exulting flash of her eyes as she glanced at her various friends, both near her and at a distance, and he fancied he detected in their responsive looks a subtle inquiry and meaning which he would not allow himself to investigate.

And while the bubbling talk and laughter eddied round him, he made up his mind to combat the lurking distrust that teased his brain, and either to disperse it altogether or else confirm it beyond all mere shadowy misgiving.

Some such thought as this had occurred to him, albeit vaguely, when he had, on a sudden unpremeditated impulse, asked Lucy to give him a few minutes' private conversation with her after supper, but now, what had previously been a mere idea formulated itself into a fixed resolve.
"For what, after all, does it matter to me ?" he mused.

"Why should I hesitate to destroy a dream?
Why should I care if another rainbow bubble of life breaks and disappears?
I am too old to have ideals--so most people would tell me.

And yet--with the grave open and ready to receive me,--I still believe that love and truth and purity surely exist in women's hearts--if one could only know just where to find the women!" "Dear King David!" murmured a cooing voice at his ear.