a fit in which she lived all over again through things that had happened in the years long ago. Oh, it was a terrible secret which she always carried about with her, which no one knew, which no one had ever known! In the dark room, with the closed sun-blinds, the secret stifled her and had to be told, because it stifled her in her heart and throat.
"I must tell it you, Addie. . . . It was during those last days, those terrible days in Paris. Eduard, my husband, was in Paris and . . . and he had been threatening me. . . . You remember, you must remember: I told you as much as that, didn't I? . . . He had come to look for me in Paris. He hated me . . . and he hated, oh, how he hated Henri! . . . Henri, my poor brother, my brother! . . . Addie, Addie, let me tell you everything! . . . Whatever people may have thought, whatever people may have said, none of it's true, it's all false! He was my brother, my own brother; and I loved him as a brother, though perhaps too much; and he loved me as a sister, though perhaps too much. . . . Oh, people are so wicked, so utterly wicked! They thought, they said . . . As for me, I would never speak. Oh, Addie, your parents and you, your kindest and dearest of parents, never asked me a question, but took me to live with them in their house, which has become my sanctuary, where I can lead my cloistered life! Oh, Addie, I shall be grateful for ever and ever to your dear parents . . . and to you! They never asked me anything, they have been like father and mother to me; I have been able to live under their roof, though my life has been nothing but remorse and pain. . . . Oh, Addie, let me tell you everything! . . . Henri was a clown in a circus—you know about that—and I, I made money by painting. We lived . . . we lived together; we were both of us happy; then
