” The conversation hung. "'Under the wide and starry sky, Dig the grave and let me lie. " He passed it over; and Ruth read: To be opened in case of my death and the letter inside forwarded to the address thereon. Was it that the struggle of things to survive produced as a sort of necessary byproduct these intense preferences and appreciations, or was it that some mystical outer thing, some great force, drove life beautyward, even in spite of expediency, regardless of survival value and all the manifest discretions of life? She went to Capes with that riddle and put it to him very carefully and clearly, and he talked well—he always talked at some length when she took a difficulty to him—and sent her to a various literature upon the markings of butterflies, the incomprehensible elaboration and splendor of birds of Paradise and hummingbirds’ plumes, the patterning of tigers, and a leopard’s spots. Leonardo had told her it would happen, and warned her to make use of it. “How could I, when your sister sings now at the ‘Unusual’ every night and the name ‘Alcide’ flaunts from every placard in London?” “The likeness between us,” she said, “before I began to disfigure myself with rouge and ill-dressed hair, was remarkable. This was his humiliation as well as hers. CHAPTER I. In the periphery of her vision, she saw the door pulled back.
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