Roderick at first made no response.  He was watching a figure on the summit of some distant rocks, opposite to them.  The figure was apparently descending into the valley, and in relief against the crimson screen of the western sky, it looked gigantic.  “Christina Light?” Roderick at last repeated, as if arousing himself from a reverie.  “Where she is?  It ’s extraordinary how little I care!”

“Have you, then, completely got over it?”

To this Roderick made no direct reply; he sat brooding a while.  “She ’s a humbug!” he presently exclaimed.

“Possibly!” said Rowland.  “But I have known worse ones.”

“She disappointed me!” Roderick continued in the same tone.

“Had she, then, really given you hopes?”

“Oh, don’t recall it!” Roderick cried.  “Why the devil should I think of it?  It was only three months ago, but it seems like ten years.”  His friend said nothing more, and after a while he went on of his own accord.  “I believed there was a future in it all!  She pleased me—­pleased me; and when an artist—­such as I was—­is pleased, you know!” And he paused again.  “You never saw her as I did; you never heard her in her great moments.  But there is no use talking about that!  At first she would n’t regard me seriously; she chaffed me and made light of me.  But at last I forced her to admit I was a great man.  Think of that, sir!  Christina Light called me a great man.  A great man was what she was looking for, and we agreed to find our happiness for life in each other.  To please me she promised not to marry till I gave her leave.  I was not in a marrying way myself, but it was damnation to think of another man possessing her.  To spare my sensibilities, she promised to turn off her prince, and the idea of her doing so made me as happy as to see a perfect statue shaping itself in the block.  You have seen how she kept her promise!  When I learned it, it was as if the statue had suddenly cracked and turned hideous.  She died for me, like that!” And he snapped his fingers.  “Was it wounded vanity, disappointed desire, betrayed confidence?  I am sure I don’t know; you certainly have some name for it.”

“The poor girl did the best she could,” said Rowland.

“If that was her best, so much the worse for her!  I have hardly thought of her these two months, but I have not forgiven her.”

“Well, you may believe that you are avenged.  I can’t think of her as happy.”

“I don’t pity her!” said Roderick.  Then he relapsed into silence, and the two sat watching the colossal figure as it made its way downward along the jagged silhouette of the rocks.  “Who is this mighty man,” cried Roderick at last, “and what is he coming down upon us for?  We are small people here, and we can’t undertake to keep company with giants.”

“Wait till we meet him on our own level,” said Rowland, “and perhaps he will not overtop us.”

“For ten minutes, at least,” Roderick rejoined, “he will have been a great man!” At this moment the figure sank beneath the horizon line and became invisible in the uncertain light.  Suddenly Roderick said, “I would like to see her once more—­simply to look at her.”