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 "You don't think I did help you today?" he asked slowly.

"Ye—s. Well, I suppose there was nothing you could do."

"Shall I go now?" he whispered after a pause, drawing her close to him.

"Do as you wish," she said quietly.

"You know what I wish. What do you wish—most?"

"I don't know what I want." She burst into tears.

"Oh, Jenny darling." He kissed her softly time after time. When she recovered herself he took her hand: "I am going now. Sleep well, dear; you are tired. You must not be cross with me."

"Say good-night nicely to me," she said, clinging to him.

"Good-night, my sweet, beloved Jenny." He left, and she fell to crying again.

HESE are the things I wanted you to see," said Gert Gram, rising. He had been on his knees, looking for something on the lower shelf of his safe.

Jenny pushed the sketch-books aside and pulled the electric lamp nearer. He wiped the dust from the big portfolio and placed it before her.

"I have not shown these to anybody for a great many years, or looked at them myself, but I have been wanting you to see them for some time—in fact, from the day I called on you at your studio. When you came here to look at Helge's picture I meant to ask you if you cared to see them, and all the time you were working close by here I had it in my mind.

"It is strange to think, Jenny, that here in this little office I have buried all my dreams of youth. There in the safe they lie like corpses in their tomb, and I myself go about a dead and forgotten artist."