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.u tin end "i .1 devioui mountain trail There I would kneel and praj le hou Dicu to restore to m< m> manhi t>> remove from me the devilment under which I lived and under which l was 10 toon to die. On one of I days I looked down the trail and was a^h,-i-.i to lee two figures clambering toward me, the one a trifle in advance
of tm receiving in lavish splendor in m) own home
"Pauline was glorious that night. I remember ho* I stood back to watch lui descending m) stairway, how I turned to .t friend of mine and said, 'Here comes the mosl perfeel woman in the world,' and how mj friend, quia rically, said, 'Mure beautiful than Fedora, men, Raphael and how I answered, tranced, 'Ah, infinite!} more beau t i ful than Fedora !'
"Then and there, one evil spell was broken for me, ["he evil spell of Fedora \nd when I realized thai the one, also a woman, a woman with • imething horrible in beautiful fad} was Pauline, little Pauline Gaudin, who her walk, in her attitude, the second was Fedora, in
stantly, 1 was sick with a morbid terror, For well I knew
that no such altruistic motive as anxiets had sent Fedora
alter me into the Swiss Alps.
"As you know, and as I know, hedora hail noised it venomously abroad, that my friendship for her had ( Continufd on page W )
of the other, The first, so I saw. was Pauline Faithful,
deal I'. inline, who. it transpired, had followed me into
my retreat oul of her loving anxiety, I'm the second
had attended me in mv povert) stricken garret, 1 was
more than ever 'ma/ed and joyed. No father, she told me, had made a vast fortune in Russia and the\ no longer kept a rooming-house for impecunious artists.
That night, mtS amis, my lust was killed and mv love was born. They are different, 1 tell you that now. they are very different, love
and lust. . . .
"We began to sec one another every day and to make plans for our future. With the birth of love there came, also, of a natural conse quence, the spontaneous birth of many, many more wishes. I found myself wishing this for us and that for us, I wished to perfect a happiness more glowing and glorious than ever before experienced by man and woman. And with each wish 1 grew weaker and more miserable. There was I. with happiness in my two hands, and all the while, my two hands growing more feeble and more futile.
"I was in despair, then. Happiness, and I could not taste it ! The wine was at my mouth and the sparkle had died down. I tried in every way to destroy that accursed skin. It would not be destroyed. It would shrink only of its own accord, in its own manner, and with its shrinkage it drank my life-blood from out my impoverished veins.
"I became melancholic, and in order to attempt to regain some degree of health before our marriage, I made a journey into the Swiss Alps.
"There, I thought, away from Paris, away from Pauline, away from Fedora, who. after the fashion of women of her sort, had become malicious and passionate now that she had lost the thing she had despised, away from all of this, I might not have the urge to make any wishes. I might grow stronger.
"The end of it all came there in the Swiss Alps.
"It was my wont to go. every day, to a little shrine
Here is the course of true love not running smoothly as is its custom, poet leaves his garret . . . and his sweetheart
The
(Fifty-tune)