It was the thirteenth day since he had heard from her; the last day but two of the fifteen days she had asked for.

The day after to-morrow she would have come, or would have written him that she was renouncing him forever for his own sake.

Which might it have been?
He would never know now.
He wrote her: "Dearest of women, Rita has been loyal to you.

It was only when I explained to her for what purpose I wished your address that she wisely gave it to me.
"Dearest, from the beginning of our acquaintance and afterward when it ripened into friendship and finally became love, upon you has rested the burden of decision; and I have permitted it.
"Even now, as I am writing here in the studio, the burden lies heavily upon your girl's shoulders and is weighting your girl's heart.

And it must not be so any longer.
"I have never, perhaps, really meant to be selfish; a man in love really doesn't know what he means.