But through the gentle silence there throbbed a warning. He battled with it; the mad desire grew upon him, the stress, the self-torture was getting beyond control. Reckless inconsideration told him to enter.
The palpitating misery that swayed through every wave of his blood, cried in almost an ecstacy of terror: "Go in, she is yours." He knew he could not resist what love counseled if he remained much longer, and he hung his head for very shame.
When a proud man finds out he is but a child in the midst of his strength, but a fool in his wisdom, it is humiliating to own it even to himself.
While every passion held him enslaved, he felt a vague desire to escape, a yearning, almost insane, to get out from his own self.
"Why should you not have her, when you love her so dearly?" the tempter asked.
But he knew the voice and shrank from it. Then he murmured inwardly:
"Great and good God, I turn to you," and before he knew it, his unaccustomed lips had framed a prayer.
With a feeling of renewed strength he took one last look at her and walked away. He had scarcely time to catch that midnight train. He was leaving
