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 stand him. It seems to me impossible that anybody could really be what he appeared to be. I always expected something would happen that would explain what I saw. I searched for the hidden treasure. You know how desperately anxious one gets to find the longer one seeks. Even now, when I think that some other woman may find it, I … But there are some who love because the loved one is perfect to them—can give them all they need. Have you ever been in love with any woman to such an extent that you thought everything in her was right and good and beautiful—that you could love everything in her?"

"No," he said briskly.

"But that is real love, don't you think? And that is how I thought Jenny would love, but it is impossible for her to love Helge Gram like that."

"I don't know him really. I know only that he is not so stupid as he looks—as the saying goes—I mean, there is more in him than you'd think at first sight. I suppose Jenny has found out his real value."

Cesca was quiet. She lit a cigarette and watched the flame of the wax vesta till it burnt out.

"Have you noticed that he always asks, 'Don't you think?' and 'Is it not?'? Has it not struck you that there is something effeminate, something unfinished, about him?"

"Perhaps so. Possibly that's what attracted her. She is strong and independent herself, and might love a man weaker than herself."

"I'll tell you what I think. I don't believe that Jenny really is so strong and independent. She's only been forced to be. At home she had to help and support, and there was nobody to support her. She had to take care of me, because I needed her—now it is Gram. She is strong and determined, and she knows it, and nobody asks her in vain for help, but nobody can go on for ever giving help and never getting any them-