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I]

And so a coldness began between you, little by little. Is that it?

[Half closing her eyes.] No. Not at once. I saw in him a pale reflection of you: then that too faded. Of what good is it to talk now?

[With a repressed energy.] But what is this that seems to hang over you? It cannot be so tragic.

[Calmly.] O, not in the least tragic. I shall become gradually better, they tell me, as I grow older. As I did not die then they tell me I shall probably live. I am given life and health again—when I cannot use them. [Calmly and bitterly.] I am convalescent.

[Gently.] Does nothing then in life give you peace? Surely it exists for you somewhere.

If there were convents in our religion perhaps there. At least, I think so at times.

[Shakes his head.] No, Miss Justice, not even there. You could not give yourself freely and wholly.

[Looking at him.] I would try.

You would try, yes. You were drawn to him as your mind was drawn towards mine. You held back from