But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. She had a feeling as though something had dropped from her eyes, as though she had just discovered herself for the first time—discovered herself as a sleepwalker might do, abruptly among dangers, hindrances, and perplexities, on the verge of a cardinal crisis. " "Then I'll lend a helping hand. I am an independent sort of person,” she continued, “and I am engaged in an attempt to earn my own living. Then before she could say a word to arrest him he was at her side.
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