'Then you don't know whether——' and stopped. I knew what she wanted to ask, and said, 'Yes, Connie, she's alive and well, thank God. I heard from her only five days ago.' She sat down on a bench, and we talked for some time. She was evidently wondering how much I knew, so I put her at her ease by saying I knew all about it, and I was afraid she was having a pretty rotten time. She started to flare up at that, but thought better of it, and said, 'I am. Chiozzi is a devil. I must get away from him somehow. I'm at the end of my endurance.' She went on to tell me about her life, and the gist of it is this. I'll tell it in as few words as possible. She has always loved Petrovitch, she says, and no one else. He was in love with her for a time, then tired of her, as she interfered with his work. She wrote to her husband, asking him to take her back, but before he could reply a bullet took his life at Spion Kop. A year or two later she met a French officer who fell in love with her. They were to have been married, but he found out about Petrovitch and left her. Connie said bitterly that his life had been what many men's lives are, but she wasn't good enough. After that she went to Rome where she met an American named Freeman. She married him, and they sailed for New York on