But never mind that. . ” He looked at her intensely, his dark eyes deepened with sleeplessness. She leaped suddenly at a desperate resolution, and in one moment had made it into a new self. But was that enough? Dim, formless suspicions of something more vital wandered about his mind. Of course, it was ridiculous, this inclination to assist the fugitive, based as it was upon an intangible university idea. He would sit in his inner office and compose conversations with her, penetrating, illuminating, and nearly conclusive—conversations that never proved to be of the slightest use at all with her when he met her face to face. ". The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts.
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