THE LADY OR THE SALMON f 119 



struggled with him, but he slipped from my arms. 

 In that moment I knew more than the anguish of 

 Orpheus. Orpheus ! Had I, too, lost my Eury- 

 dice? I rushed from the stream, up the steep 

 bank, along to my rooms. I passed the church 

 door. Olive, pale as her orange-blossoms, was 

 issuing from the porch. The clock pointed to 

 10.45. I was ruined, I knew it, and I laughed. I 

 laughed like a lost spirit. She swept past me, and, 

 amidst the amazement of the gentle and simple, I 

 sped wildly away. Ask me no more. The rest is 

 silence.' 



Thus ends my hapless friend's narrative. 1 

 leave it to the judgment of women and of men. 

 Ladies, would you have acted as Olive Dunne 

 acted? Would pride, or pardon, or mirth have 

 ridden sparkling in your eyes ? Men, my brethren, 

 would ye have deserted the salmon for the lady, 

 or the lady for the salmon ? I know what I would 

 have done had I been fair Olive Dunne. What 

 I would have done had I been Houghton Grannom 

 I may not venture to divulge. For this narrative, 



