anticipate its effect on you.

"Pat--How am I going to convince you that I'm sincere? Will you believe me when I write that I love you? Can you believe that I love you tenderly, worshipfully--reverently?

"You can't; I know you can't after that catastrophe of last night. But it's true, Pat, though the logic of a Spinoza might fail to convince you of it.

"I don't know how to write you this. I don't know whether you want to hear what I could say, but I know that I must try to say it. Not apologies, Pat--I shouldn't dare approach you for so poor a reason as that--but a sort of explanation. You more than any one in the world are entitled to that explanation, if you want to hear it.

"I can't write it to you, Pat; it's something I can only make you believe by telling you--something dark and rather terrible. But please, Dear, believe that I mean you no harm, and that I plan no subterfuge, when I suggest that you see me. It will be, I think, for the last time.

"Tonight, and tomorrow night, and as many nights to follow as I can, I'll sit on a bench in the park near the place where I kissed you that first time. There will be people passing there, and cars driving by; you need fear nothing from me. I choose the place to bridle my own actions, Pat; nothing can happen while we sit there in the view of the world.

"To write you more than this is futile. If you come, I'll be there; if you don't, I'll understand.

"I love you."

The letter was signed merely "Nick." She stared at the signature with feelings so confused that she forebore any attempt to analyze them.

"But I can't go," she mused soberly. "I've promised Dr. Carl. Or at least, I can't go without telling him."

That last thought, she realized, was a concession. Heretofore she hadn't let herself consider the possibility of seeing Nicholas Devine again, and now suddenly she was weakening, arguing with herself about the ethics of seeing him. She shook her head decisively.

"Won't do, Patricia Lane!" she told herself. "Next thing, you'll be slipping away without a word to anybody, and coming home with two black eyes and a broken nose. Won't do at all!"

She dropped her eyes to the letter. "Explanations," she reflected. "I guess Dr. Carl would give up 

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