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And also he felt dimly that since this morning all the fine clarity of his life had given place to confusion. His reaction to everything was hopelessly different. Throughout the evening Marian was prodigal of her grace, showered him with impulsive expressions of affection; yet, instead of sheer loving delight in her, such things stirred him to physical and mental desire, desire to possess this girl, body and soul. He flushed with shame. He had never felt this way before; or, if he had, he had not known it.

When at last it was so late that Stacey simply must not stay longer, Marian accompanied him downstairs, her hand in his. They looked into the drawing-room so that he might say good night to her parents, but the room was empty. Only a single shaded lamp had been left burning, and the fire on the hearth was flickering to ashes.

“I suppose papa’s at the club, and probably mamma has gone to bed,” said the girl, in the hushed tone that dark and emptiness induce.

“It’s awfully late,” he replied remorsefully.

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