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130ARIADNE.and she kissed you as she drank it,and thoughteach throeit caused her sweet because the hurtwas from you, could you bear that ? It was sowith us. She stung me always, not meaning;"and thenItired" You cannot think it of me thatIwoulcldesert a woman brutally, and a woman soyoung," he said after a pause, with an impatienceand apology in his tone, for it hurt him,that such as I, or any one indeed, could deemhim guflty of such kind of grossness in hiscruelty." Iwas faithless;Ileft her—yes;butImeantto return. Ithought she woulcl more easilyunderstand that one might weary — of courseIneverdreamed that she woulcl flee awayto misery"" No,Iremember!" Ianswered him, bitterly.like that"You said of old, when you buried a dead loveyou cast some rich gifts on its grave, as theRomans the porcapræsentanea. Well, you seethere are dead things you cannot bury so, andthere are things that wdl not die at all, not evenat your bidding. You are a famous poet, but it