The rockers were long and sharp behind, always lying in wait for the unwary, but cut short in front: and the back was so high and so heavy on top, that what with its weight and the shortness of the front rockers, it tipped forward with an ease and a violence equally astonishing.

This I knew from experience, as it had plunged over upon me during some of our frequent encounters. Hal also was a sufferer, but in spite of our manifold bruises, neither of us would have had the chair removed, for did not she sit in it, evening after evening, and rock there in the golden light of the setting sun.

So, evening after evening, we two fled from our work as early as possible, and hurried home alone, by separate ways, to the dingy street and the glorified window.

I could not endure forever. When Hal came home first, I, lingering in the street below, could see through our window that lovely head and his in close proximity. When I came first, it was to catch perhaps a quick glance from above – a bewildering smile – no more. She was always gone when I reached the room, and the inner door of my chamber irrevocably locked.

At times I even caught the click of the latch, heard the flutter of loose robes on the other side; and sometimes this daily disappointment, this constant agony of hope deferred, would bring me to my knees by that door begging her to open to me, crying to her in every term of passionate endearment and persuasion that tortured heart of man could think to use.

Hal had neither word nor look for me now, save those of studied politeness and cold indifference, and how could I behave otherwise to him, so proven to my face a liar?

I saw him from the street one night, in the broad level sunlight, sitting in that chair, with the beautiful head on his shoulder. It was more than I could bear. If he had won, and won so utterly, I would ask but to speak to her once, and say farewell to both forever. So I heavily climbed the stairs, knocked loudly, and entered at Hal’s ‘Come in!’ only to find him sitting there alone, smoking – yes, smoking in the chair which but a moment since had held her too!

He had but just lit the cigar, a paltry device to blind my eyes.

‘Look here, Hal,’ said I, ‘I can’t stand this any longer. May I ask you one thing? Let me see her once, just once, that I may say good-bye, and then neither of you need see me again!’

Hal rose to his feet and looked me straight in the eye. Then he threw that whole cigar out of the window, and walked to within two feet of me.

‘Are you crazy,’ he said. ‘I ask her! I! I have never had speech of her in my life! And you –’ He stopped and turned away.

‘And I what?’ I would have it out now whatever came.

‘And you have seen her day after day – talked with her – I need not repeat all that my eyes have seen!’

‘You need not, indeed,’ said I. ‘It would tax even your invention. I have never seen her in this room but once, and then but for a fleeting glimpse – no word. From the street I have seen her often – with you!’

He turned very white and walked from me to the window, then turned again.

‘I have never seen her in this room for even such a moment as you own to. From the street I have seen her often – with you!’

We looked at each other.

‘Do you mean to say,’ I inquired slowly, ‘that I did not see you just now sitting in that chair, by that window, with her in your arms?’

‘Stop!’ he cried, throwing out his hand with a fierce gesture. It struck sharply on the corner of the chair-back. He wiped the blood mechanically from the three-cornered cut, looking fixedly at me.

‘I saw you,’ said I.

‘You did not!’ said he.

I turned slowly on my heel and went into my room. I could not bear to tell that man, my more than brother, that he lied.

I sat down on my bed with my head on my hands, and presently I heard Hal’s door open and shut, his step on the stair, the front door slam behind him. He had gone, I knew not where, and if he went to his death and a word of mine would have stopped him, I would not have said it. I do not know how long I sat there, in the company of hopeless love and jealousy and hate.

Suddenly, out of the silence of the empty room, came the steady swing and creak of the great chair. Perhaps – it must be! I sprang to my feet and noiselessly opened the door. There she sat by the window, looking out, and – yes – she threw a kiss to some one below. Ah, how beautiful she was! How beautiful! I made a step toward her. I held out my hands, I uttered I know not what – when all at once came Hal’s quick step upon the stairs.

She heard it, too, and, giving me one look, one subtle, mysterious, triumphant look, slipped past me and into my room just as Hal burst in. He saw her go. He came straight to me and I thought he would have struck me down where I stood.

‘Out of my way,’ he cried. ‘I will speak to her. Is it not enough to see?’ – he motioned toward the window with his wounded hand – ‘Let me pass!’

‘She is not there,’ I answered. ‘She has gone through into the other room.’

A light laugh sounded close by us, a faint, soft, silver laugh, almost at my elbow.

He flung me from his path, threw open the door, and entered. The room was empty.

‘Where have you hidden her?’ he demanded.