Chapter XII
THREE sights of a girl had taken all the zest of wandering out of the heart of Mr. Beauling. So he said—most logically!—"I'm looking too high," and, with a soul as sad as tears, turned his back upon the girl, although her eyes had said as plainly as could be, "You are he," and wandered off to fish for pearls in the deep ocean. In a period measured by four seasons—it lasted ten thousand years and a few long days—he sent her six impersonal letters, and wrote her about three hundred and sixty-five personal ones. He fell low of a strange fever, and, coming out of the delirium, found that he had been writing adoring letters to the girl he loved. These he tore into little pieces and burned. Others he tore into even smaller pieces and cast
