Visit https://ebookultra.

com to download the full version and

explore more ebooks or textbooks

Examples in Structural Analysis 2nd Edition

William M.C. Mckenzie

_____ Click the link below to download _____

https://ebookultra.com/download/examples-in-structural-
analysis-2nd-edition-william-m-c-mckenzie/

Explore and download more ebooks or textbooks at ebookultra.com

Here are some recommended products that we believe you will be
interested in. You can click the link to download.

Examples in Structural Analysis 1st Edition Willi Mckenzie

https://ebookultra.com/download/examples-in-structural-analysis-1st-
edition-willi-mckenzie/

Design of Structural Elements to Eurocodes 2nd Edition

W.M.C. Mckenzie

https://ebookultra.com/download/design-of-structural-elements-to-
eurocodes-2nd-edition-w-m-c-mckenzie/

Matrix Structural Analysis Second Edition William Mcguire

https://ebookultra.com/download/matrix-structural-analysis-second-
edition-william-mcguire/

Structural Analysis Fourth Edition SI Edition Aslam

Kassimali

https://ebookultra.com/download/structural-analysis-fourth-edition-si-
edition-aslam-kassimali/
Developments in Structural Form 2nd Edition Rowland
Mainstone

https://ebookultra.com/download/developments-in-structural-form-2nd-
edition-rowland-mainstone/

Structural Analysis and Synthesis 3ed. Edition Stehen M.

Rowland

https://ebookultra.com/download/structural-analysis-and-synthesis-3ed-
edition-stehen-m-rowland/

Real life Examples in Dynamics 2nd Edition Eann A.

Patterson (Ed.)

https://ebookultra.com/download/real-life-examples-in-dynamics-2nd-
edition-eann-a-patterson-ed/

Fundamentals of Structural Analysis Solutions Manual 3rd

Edition Kenneth Leet

https://ebookultra.com/download/fundamentals-of-structural-analysis-
solutions-manual-3rd-edition-kenneth-leet/

Recent Advances in Structural Integrity Analysis

Proceedings of the International Congress 1st Edition Lin
Ye
https://ebookultra.com/download/recent-advances-in-structural-
integrity-analysis-proceedings-of-the-international-congress-1st-
edition-lin-ye/
Examples in Structural Analysis 2nd Edition William
M.C. Mckenzie Digital Instant Download
Author(s): William M.C. McKenzie
ISBN(s): 9780429073908, 0429073909
Edition: 2
File Details: PDF, 9.76 MB
Year: 2013
Language: english
Examples in
Structural
Analysis
SECON D E DITION
Examples in
Structural
Analysis
SECON D E DITION

William M. C. McKenzie
CRC Press
Taylor & Francis Group
6000 Broken Sound Parkway NW, Suite 300
Boca Raton, FL 33487-2742
© 2014 by Taylor & Francis Group, LLC
CRC Press is an imprint of Taylor & Francis Group, an Informa business

No claim to original U.S. Government works

Version Date: 20131114

International Standard Book Number-13: 978-1-4665-9527-9 (eBook - PDF)

This book contains information obtained from authentic and highly regarded sources. Reasonable efforts have been
made to publish reliable data and information, but the author and publisher cannot assume responsibility for the valid-
ity of all materials or the consequences of their use. The authors and publishers have attempted to trace the copyright
holders of all material reproduced in this publication and apologize to copyright holders if permission to publish in this
form has not been obtained. If any copyright material has not been acknowledged please write and let us know so we may
rectify in any future reprint.

Except as permitted under U.S. Copyright Law, no part of this book may be reprinted, reproduced, transmitted, or uti-
lized in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopy-
ing, microfilming, and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without written permission from the
publishers.

For permission to photocopy or use material electronically from this work, please access www.copyright.com (http://
www.copyright.com/) or contact the Copyright Clearance Center, Inc. (CCC), 222 Rosewood Drive, Danvers, MA 01923,
978-750-8400. CCC is a not-for-profit organization that provides licenses and registration for a variety of users. For
organizations that have been granted a photocopy license by the CCC, a separate system of payment has been arranged.

Trademark Notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for
identification and explanation without intent to infringe.
Visit the Taylor & Francis Web site at
http://www.taylorandfrancis.com
and the CRC Press Web site at
http://www.crcpress.com
Contents
Preface xii
Acknowledgements xiv
About the Author xvii
1. Structural Analysis and Design 1
1.1 Introduction 1
1.2 Equilibrium 1
1.3 Mathematical Modelling 4
1.3.1 Line Diagrams 4
1.3.2 Load Path 7
1.3.3 Foundations 8
1.4 Structural Loading 9
1.5 Statical Indeterminacy 11
1.5.1 Indeterminacy of Two-Dimensional Pin-Jointed Frames 11
1.5.2 Indeterminacy of Two-Dimensional Rigid-Jointed Frames 15
1.6 Structural Degrees-of-Freedom 18
1.6.1 Problems: Indeterminacy and Degrees-of-Freedom 21
1.6.2 Solutions: Indeterminacy and Degrees-of-Freedom 22

2. Material and Section Properties 23

2.1 Introduction 23
2.1.1 Simple Stress and Strain 23
2.1.2 Young’s Modulus (Modulus of Elasticity) 25
2.1.3 Secant Modulus 25
2.1.4 Tangent Modulus 25
2.1.5 Shear Rigidity (Modulus of Rigidity) 26
2.1.6 Yield Strength 26
2.1.7 Ultimate Tensile Strength 26
2.1.8 Modulus of Rupture in Bending 26
2.1.9 Modulus of Rupture in Torsion 26
2.1.10 Poisson’s Ratio 27
2.1.11 Coefficient of Thermal Expansion 27
2.1.12 Elastic Assumptions 27
2.2 Elastic Cross-Section Properties 28
2.2.1 Cross-sectional Area 28
2.2.2 Centre of Gravity and Centroid 32
2.2.3 Problems: Cross-sectional Area and Position of Centroid 38
2.2.4 Solutions: Cross-sectional Area and Position of Centroid 39
2.2.5 Elastic Neutral Axes 40
2.2.6 Second Moment of Area and Radius of Gyration 41
2.2.6.1 The Parallel Axis Theorem 41
2.2.7 Elastic Section Modulus 43
2.2.8 Problems: Second Moment of Area and Elastic Section Modulii 45
2.2.9 Solutions: Second Moment of Area and Elastic Section Modulii 45
vi Contents
2.3 Plastic Cross-Section Properties 51
2.3.1 Stress/Strain Relationship 51
2.3.2 Plastic Neutral Axis 52
2.3.3 Evaluation of Plastic Moment and Plastic Section Modulus 53
2.3.4 Shape Factor 54
2.3.5 Section Classification 54
2.3.5.1 Aspect Ratio 54
2.3.5.2 Type of Section 55
2.4 Example 2.1: Plastic Cross-section Properties  Section 1 56
2.5 Problems: Plastic Cross-section Properties 57
2.6 Solutions: Plastic Cross-section Properties 58

3. Pin-Jointed Frames 62
3.1 Introduction 62
3.2 Method of Sections 62
3.2.1 Example 3.1: Pin-Jointed Truss 62
3.3 Method of Joint Resolution 65
3.3.1 Problems: Method of Sections and Joint Resolution 67
3.3.2 Solutions: Method of Sections and Joint Resolution 69
3.4 Method of Tension Coefficients 93
3.4.1 Example 3.2: Two-Dimensional Plane Truss 94
3.4.2 Example 3.3: Three-Dimensional Space Truss 95
3.4.3 Problems: Method of Tension Coefficients 98
3.4.4 Solutions: Method of Tension Coefficients 101
3.5 Unit Load for Deflection 113
3.5.1 Strain Energy (Axial Load Effects) 113
3.5.2 Castigliano’s 1st Theorem 114
3.5.3 Example 3.4: Deflection of a Pin-Jointed Truss 116
3.5.3.1 Fabrication Errors (Lack-of-fit) 120
3.5.3.2 Changes in Temperature 120
3.5.4 Example 3.5: Lack-of-fit and Temperature Difference 120
3.5.5 Problems: Unit Load Method for Deflection of Pin-Jointed frames 122
3.5.6 Solutions: Unit Load Method for Deflection of Pin-Jointed frames 123
3.6 Unit Load Method for Singly-Redundant Pin-Jointed Frames 135
3.6.1 Example 3.6: Singly-Redundant Pin-Jointed Frame 1 135
3.6.2 Example 3.7: Singly-Redundant Pin-Jointed Frame 2 137
3.6.3 Problems: Unit Load for Singly-Redundant Pin-Jointed Frames 140
3.6.4 Solutions: Unit Load for Singly-Redundant Pin-Jointed Frames 141

4. Beams 157
4.1 Statically Determinate Beams 157
4.1.1 Example 4.1: Beam with Point Loads 157
4.1.2 Shear Force Diagrams 159
4.1.3 Bending Moment Diagrams 163
4.1.4 Example 4.2: Beam with a Uniformly Distributed Load 167
4.1.5 Example 4.3: Cantilever Beam 169
 Contents vii

4.1.6 Problems: Statically Determinate Beams  Shear Force

and Bending Moment 170
4.1.7 Solutions: Statically Determinate Beams  Shear Force
and Bending Moment 173
4.2 McCaulay’s Method for the Deflection of Beams 183
4.2.1 Example 4.4: Beam with Point Loads 184
4.2.2 Example 4.5: Beam with Combined Point Loads and UDL’s 186
4.3 Equivalent Uniformly Distributed Load Method for the Deflection of Beams 189
4.3.1 Problems: McCaulay’s and Equivalent UDL Methods for
Deflection of Beams 191
4.3.2 Solutions: McCaulay’s and Equivalent UDL Methods for
Deflection of Beams 192
4.4 The Principle of Superposition 202
4.4.1 Example 4.6: Superposition  Beam 1 203
4.4.2 Example 4.7: Superposition  Beam 2 204
4.4.3 Example 4.8: Superposition  Beam 3 205
4.4.4 Example 4.9: Superposition  Beam 4 206
4.4.5 Example 4.10: Superposition  Beam 5 207
4.5 Unit Load for Deflection of Beams 208
4.5.1 Strain Energy (Bending Load Effects) 208
4.5.2 Example 4.11: Deflection and Slope of a Uniform Cantilever 211
4.5.3 Example 4.12: Deflection and Slope of a Non-Uniform Cantilever 212
4.5.4 Example 4.13: Deflection and Slope of a Linearly Varying
Cantilever 214
4.5.5 Example 4.14: Deflection of a Non-Uniform, Simply-Supported
Beam 216
4.5.6 Example 4.15: Deflection of a Frame and Beam Structure 218
4.5.7 Example 4.16: Deflection Uniform Cantilever using Coefficients 221
4.5.8 Problems: Unit Load Method for Deflection of Beams/Frames 222
4.5.9 Solutions: Unit Load Method for Deflection of Beams/Frames 225
4.6 Statically Indeterminate Beams 252
4.6.1 Unit Load Method for Singly-Redundant Beams 253
4.6.2 Example 4.17: Singly-Redundant Beam 1 253
4.6.3 Example 4.18: Singly-Redundant Beam 2 255
4.6.4 Problems: Unit Load Method for Singly-Redundant Beams 258
4.6.5 Solutions: Unit Load Method for Singly-Redundant Beams 259
4.7 Moment Distribution Method for Multi-Redundant Beams 269
4.7.1 Bending (Rotational) Stiffness 269
4.7.2 Carry-Over Moment 270
4.7.3 Pinned End 270
4.7.4 Free and Fixed Bending Moments 271
4.7.5 Example 4.19: Single-span Encastre Beam 272
4.7.6 Propped Cantilevers 274
4.7.7 Example 4.20: Propped Cantilever 275
4.7.8 Distribution Factors 278
4.7.9 Application of the Method 279
viii Contents
4.7.10 Example 4.21: Three-span Continuous Beam 280
4.7.11 Problems: Moment Distribution - Continuous Beams 289
4.7.12 Solutions: Moment Distribution - Continuous Beams 290
4.8 Redistribution of Moments 314
4.8.1 Example 4.22: Redistribution of Moments in a Two-span Beam 314
4.9 Shear Force and Bending Moment Envelopes 317

5. Rigid-Jointed Frames 318

5.1 Rigid-Jointed Frames 318
5.1.1 Example 5.1: Statically Determinate, Rigid-Jointed Frame 1 319
5.1.2 Example 5.2: Statically Determinate, Rigid-Jointed Frame 2 323
5.1.3 Problems: Statically Determinate, Rigid-Jointed Frames 328
5.1.4 Solutions: Statically Determinate, Rigid-Jointed Frames 330
5.2 Unit Load Method for Singly-Redundant, Rigid-Jointed Frames 342
5.2.1 Example 5.3: Singly-Redundant, Rigid-Jointed Frame 344
5.2.2 Problems: Unit Load Method for Singly-Redundant, Rigid-Jointed
Frames 350
5.2.3 Solutions: Unit Load Method for Singly-Redundant, Rigid-Jointed
Frames 352
5.3 Moment Distribution for No-Sway, Rigid-Jointed Frames 368
5.3.1 Example 5.3: No-Sway, Rigid-Jointed Frame 1 370
5.3.2 Problems: Moment Distribution  No-Sway Rigid-Jointed Frames 376
5.3.3 Solutions: Moment Distribution  No-Sway Rigid-Jointed Frames 378
5.4 Moment Distribution for Rigid-Jointed Frames with Sway 415
5.4.1 Example 5.4: Rigid-Jointed Frame with Sway  Frame 1 417
5.4.2 Problems: Moment Distribution  Rigid-Jointed Frames with Sway 427
5.4.3 Solutions: Moment Distribution  Rigid-Jointed Frames with Sway 429

6. Buckling Instability 462

6.1 Introduction 462
6.1.1 Local Buckling 462
6.1.1.1 Class 1 Sections 464
6.1.1.2 Class 2 Sections 465
6.1.1.3 Class 3 Sections 466
6.1.1.4 Class 4 Sections 466
6.1.1.5 Section Classification 466
6.1.2 Flexural Buckling 467
6.1.2.1 Short Elements 467
6.1.2.2 Slender Elements 468
6.1.2.3 Intermediate Elements 468
6.2 Secondary Stresses 469
6.2.1 Effect on Short Elements 470
6.2.2 Effect on Slender Elements 470
6.2.3 Effect on Intermediate Elements 470
6.3 Critical Stress 470
6.3.1 Critical Stress for Short Columns 471
 Contents ix
6.3.2 Critical Stress for Slender Columns 471
6.3.3 Euler Equation 471
6.3.4 Effective Buckling Length 473
6.3.5 Critical Stress for Intermediate Columns 475
6.3.6 Tangent Modulus Theorem 475
6.4 Perry-Robertson Formula 476
6.5 European Column Curves 479
6.5.1 Non-dimensional Slenderness 480
6.6 Example 6.1: Slenderness 487
6.7 Example 6.2: Rolled Universal Column Section 487
6.8 Example 6.3: Compound Column Section 490
6.9 Built-up Compression Members 492
6.9.1 Shear Stiffness for Laced Columns 494
6.10 Example 6.4: Laced Built-up Column 496
6.11 Problems: Buckling Instability 501
6.12 Solutions: Buckling Instability 504

7. Direct Stiffness Method 516

7.1 Direct Stiffness Method of Analysis 516
7.2 Element Stiffness Matrix 516
7.2.1 Beams Elements with Two Degrees-of-Freedom 517
7.2.2 Beams Elements with Four Degrees-of-Freedom 518
7.2.3 Local Co-ordinate System 523
7.2.4 Beams Elements with Six Degrees-of-Freedom 523
7.3 Structural Stiffness Matrix 525
7.4 Structural Load Vector 528
7.5 Structural Displacement Vector 530
7.6 Element Displacement Vector 530
7.7 Element Force Vector 531
7.8 Example 7.1: Two-span Beam 531
7.9 Example 7.2: Rigid-Jointed Frame 537
7.10 Problems: Direct Stiffness Method 546
7.11 Solutions: Direct Stiffness Method 548

8. Plastic Analysis 597

8.1 Introduction 597
8.1.1 Partial Collapse 598
8.1.2 Conditions for Full Collapse 598
8.2 Static Method for Continuous Beams 599
8.2.1 Example 8.1: Encastré Beam 599
8.2.2 Example 8.2: Propped Cantilever 1 600
8.2.3 Example 8.3: Propped Cantilever 2 601
8.3 Kinematic Method for Continuous Beams 602
8.3.1 Example 8.4: Continuous Beam 605
8.4 Problems: Plastic Analysis  Continuous Beams 609
8.5 Solutions: Plastic Analysis  Continuous Beams 610
x Contents
8.6 Rigid-Jointed Frames 628
8.6.1 Example 8.5: Frame 1 628
8.7 Problems: Plastic Analysis  Rigid-Jointed Frames 1 635
8.8 Solutions: Plastic Analysis  Rigid-Jointed Frames 1 636
8.9 Example 8.6: Joint Mechanism 653
8.10 Problems: Plastic Analysis  Rigid-Jointed Frames 2 657
8.11 Solutions: Plastic Analysis  Rigid-Jointed Frames 2 659
8.12 Gable Mechanism 690
8.13 Instantaneous Centre of Rotation 691
8.14 Example 8.7: Pitched Roof Frame 692
8.15 Problems: Plastic Analysis  Rigid-Jointed Frames 3 696
8.16 Solutions: Plastic Analysis  Rigid-Jointed Frames 3 698

9. Influence Lines for Beams 730

9.1 Introduction 730
9.2 Example 9.1: Influence Lines for a Simply Supported Beam 730
9.2.1 Influence Lines for the Support Reactions 731
9.2.2 Influence Line for the Shear Force 732
9.2.3 Influence Line for the Bending Moment 734
9.3 Müller-Breslau Principle for the Influence Lines for Beams 737
9.4 Influence Lines for a Statically Determinate Beam 737
9.5 Example 9.3: Influence Line for a Statically Indeterminate Beam 739
9.6 The use of Influence Lines 741
9.6.1 Concentrated Loads 741
9.6.2 Distributed Loads 741
9.6.3 Example 9.4: Evaluation of Functions for Statically
Determinate Beam 1 742
9.6.4 Example 9.5: Evaluation of Functions for Statically
Determinate Beam 2 743
9.7 Example 9.6: Evaluation of Functions for a Statically Indeterminate Beam 745
9.8 Train of Loads 748
9.8.1 Example 9.7: Evaluation of Functions for a Train of Loads 749
9.9 Problems: Influence Lines for Beams 752
9.10 Solutions: Influence Lines for Beams 754

10. Approximate Methods of Analysis 762

10.1 Introduction 762
10.2 Example 10.1: Statically Indeterminate Pin-jointed Plane Frame 1 762
10.3 Example 10.2: Statically Indeterminate Pin-jointed Plane Frame 2 766
10.4 Example 10.3: Statically Indeterminate Single-span Beam 768
10.5 Example 10.4: Multi-span Beam 770
10.6 Rigid-jointed Frames Subjected to Vertical Loads 772
10.6.1 Example 10.5: Multi-storey Rigid-jointed Frame 1 772
10.6.2 Approximate Analysis of Multi-storey Rigid-jointed Frames
Using Sub-frames 778
 Contents xi
10.6.3 Simple Portal Frames with Pinned Bases Subjected to
Horizontal Loads 780
10.6.3.1 Example 10.6: Simple Rectangular Portal Frame – Pinned
Bases 780
10.6.4 Simple Portal Frames with Fixed Bases Subjected to Horizontal Loads
781
10.6.4.1 Example 10.7: Simple Rectangular Portal Frame – Fixed
Bases 782
10.7 Multi-storey, Rigid-jointed Frames Subjected to Horizontal Loads 783
10.7.1 Portal Method 783
10.7.1.1 Example 10.8: Multi-storey Rigid-jointed Frame 2 784
10.7.1.2 Approximate Analysis of Vierendeel Trusses using the Portal
Method 792
10.7.1.3 Example 10.9: Vierendeel Truss 793
10.7.2 Cantilever Method 796
10.7.2.1 Example 10.10: Multi-storey Rigid-jointed Frame 3 797
Appendices

Appendix 1 Elastic section properties of geometric figures 799

Appendix 2 Beam reactions, bending moments and deflections 804

Appendix 3 Matrix algebra 811

Index 815
This page intentionally left blank
Preface
Prior to the development of quantitative structural theories in the mid-18th century and
since, builders relied on an intuitive and highly developed sense of structural behaviour.
The advent of modern mathematical modelling and numerical methods has to a large
extent replaced this skill with a reliance on computer generated solutions to structural
problems. Professor Hardy Cross1 aptly expressed his concern regarding this in the
following quote:

‘There is sometimes cause to fear that the scientific technique, the proud servant of
the engineering arts, is trying to swallow its master.’

It is inevitable and unavoidable that designers will utilize continually improving computer
software for analyses. However, it is essential that the use of such software should only be
undertaken by those with the appropriate knowledge and understanding of the
mathematical modelling, assumptions and limitations inherent in the programs they use.

Students adopt a variety of strategies to develop their knowledge and understanding of

structural behaviour, e.g. the use of:

 computers to carry out sensitivity analyses,

 physical models to demonstrate physical effects such as buckling, bending, the
development of tension and compression and deformation characteristics,
 the study of worked examples and carrying out analyses using ‘hand’ methods.

This textbook focuses on the provision of numerous fully detailed and comprehensive
worked examples for a wide variety of structural problems. In each chapter a résumé of the
concepts and principles involved in the method being considered is given and illustrated
by several examples. A selection of problems is then presented which students should
undertake on their own prior to studying the given solutions.

Students are strongly encouraged to attempt to visualise/sketch the deflected shape of a

loaded structure and predict the type of force in the members prior to carrying out the
analysis; i.e.

(i) in the case of pin-jointed frames identify the location of the tension and
compression members,

(ii) in the case of beams/rigid-jointed frames, sketch the shape of the bending moment
diagram and locate points of contraflexure indicating areas of tension and
compression.

A knowledge of the location of tension zones is vital when placing reinforcement in

reinforced concrete design and similarly with compression zones when assessing the
effective buckling lengths of steel members.

xiii
xiv Preface
When developing their understanding and confirming their own answers by studying the
solutions provided, students should also analyse the structures using a computer analysis,
and identify any differences and the reasons for them.

The methods of analysis adopted in this text represent the most commonly used ‘hand’
techniques with the exception of the direct stiffness method in Chapter 7. This matrix
based method is included to develop an understanding of the concepts and procedures
adopted in most computer software analysis programs. A method for inverting matrices is
given in Appendix 3 and used in the solutions for this chapter  it is not necessary for
students to undertake this procedure. It is included to demonstrate the process involved
when solving the simultaneous equations as generated in the direct stiffness method.

Whichever analysis method is adopted during design, it must always be controlled by the
designer, i.e. not a computer! This can only be the case if a designer has a highly
developed knowledge and understanding of the concepts and principles involved in
structural behaviour. The use of worked examples is one of a number of strategies adopted
by students to achieve this.

In this 2nd Edition the opportunity has been taken to modify the x-y-z co-ordinate system/
symbols and Chapter 6 on buckling instability, to reflect the conventions adopted in the
structural Eurocode EN 1993-1-1 for steel structures, i.e.

x-x along the member,

y-y the major principal axis of the cross-section (e.g. parallel to the flange in a steel
beam) and
z-z the minor principal axes of the cross-section (e.g. perpendicular to the flange in a
steel beam).

Local and flexural buckling equations as given in the EN 1993-1-1 are also considered.

Chapter 4 for the analysis of beams has been expanded to include moment redistribution
and moment envelopes. Chapter 5 has been expanded to include the analysis of singly-
redundant, rigid-jointed frames using the unit load method.

In addition, two new chapters have been added: Chapter 9 relating to the construction and
use of influence lines for beams and Chapter 10, the use of approximate methods of
analysis for pin-jointed frames, multi-span beams and rigid-jointed frames.

1 Cross, H. Engineers and Ivory Towers. New York: McGraw Hill, 1952

William M.C. McKenzie

 To Karen, Gordon, Claire and Eilidh

Acknowledgements

I wish to thank Caroline for her endless support and encouragement.

Permission to reproduce extracts from British Standards is granted by BSI Standards

Limited (BSI). No other use of this material is permitted. British Standards can be
obtained in PDF or hard copy formats from the BSI online shop: www.bsigroup.com/Shop
or by contacting BSI Customer Services for hard copies only: Tel: +44 (0)20 8996 9001,
Email: [email protected]
 About the Author xvii
William M. C. McKenzie is a lecturer in structural engineering at Edinburgh Napier University on
undergraduate and postgraduate courses, including the MSc course in Advanced Structural
Engineering. He graduated with a 1st Class Honours degree and a Ph.D. from Heriot-Watt
University, Edinburgh and has been involved in consultancy, research and teaching for more than
35 years.
His publications include research papers relating to stress analysis using holographic
interferometry. He is also the author of six design textbooks relating to both the British Standards
and the Eurocodes for structural design and one structural analysis textbook.
As a member of the Institute of Physics he is both a Chartered Engineer and a Chartered
Physicist. He has presented numerous CPD courses/seminars and guest lectures to industry
throughout the UK, in China, Singapore and Malaysia, in relation to the use of the Structural
Eurocodes.
This page intentionally left blank
1. Structural Analysis and Design
1.1 Introduction
The design of structures, of which analysis is an integral part, is frequently undertaken
using computer software. This can only be done safely and effectively if those undertaking
the design fully understand the concepts, principles and assumptions on which the
computer software is based. It is vitally important therefore that design engineers develop
this knowledge and understanding by studying and using hand-methods of analysis based
on the same concepts and principles, e.g. equilibrium, energy theorems, elastic,
elasto-plastic and plastic behaviour and mathematical modelling.
In addition to providing a mechanism for developing knowledge and understanding,
hand-methods also provide a useful tool for readily obtaining approximate solutions during
preliminary design and an independent check on the answers obtained from computer
analyses.
The methods explained and illustrated in this text, whilst not exhaustive, include those
most widely used in typical design offices, e.g. method-of-sections/joint resolution/unit
load/McCaulay’s method/moment distribution/plastic analysis etc.
In Chapter 7 a résumé is given of the direct stiffness method; the technique used in
developing most computer software analysis packages. The examples and problems in this
case have been restricted and used to illustrate the processes undertaken when using
matrix analysis; this is not regarded as a hand-method of analysis.

1.2 Equilibrium
All structural analyses are based on satisfying one of the fundamental laws of physics, i.e.

F = ma Equation (1)
where
F is the force system acting on a body
m is the mass of the body
a is the acceleration of the body

Structural analyses carried out on the basis of a force system inducing a dynamic
response, for example structural vibration induced by wind loading, earthquake loading,
moving machinery, vehicular traffic etc., have a non-zero value for ‘a’ the acceleration. In
the case of analyses carried out on the basis of a static response, for example
stresses/deflections induced by the self-weights of materials, imposed loads which do not
induce vibration etc., the acceleration ‘a’ is equal to zero.
Static analysis can be regarded as a special case of the more general dynamic analysis in
which:

F = ma = 0 Equation (2)

F can represent the applied force system in any direction; for convenience this is normally
considered in either two or three mutually perpendicular directions as shown in Figure 1.1.
2 Examples in Structural Analysis

Z Z

F2z
F1 F2 F1z F2y
F1x F2x
≡ F1y F3y
F3 F3x
X F3z X

Y Y
Figure 1.1

The application of Equation (2) to the force system indicated in Figure 1.1 is:
Sum of the forces in the direction of the X-axis ΣFx = 0 Equation (3)
Sum of the forces in the direction of the Y-axis ΣFy = 0 Equation (4)
Sum of the forces in the direction of the Z-axis ΣFz = 0 Equation (5)

Since the structure is neither moving in a linear direction, nor in a rotational direction a
further three equations can be written down to satisfy Equation (2):
Sum of the moments of the forces about the X-axis ΣMx = 0 Equation (6)
Sum of the moments of the forces about the Y-axis ΣMy = 0 Equation (7)
Sum of the moments of the forces about the Z-axis ΣMz = 0 Equation (8)

Equations (3) to (8) represent the static equilibrium of a body (structure) subject to a three-
dimensional force system. Many analyses are carried out for design purposes assuming
two-dimensional force systems and hence only two linear equations (e.g. equation (3) and
equation (5) representing the x and z axes) and one rotational equation (e.g. equation (7)
representing the y-axis) are required. The x, y and z axes must be mutually perpendicular
and can be in any orientation, however for convenience two of the axes are usually
regarded as horizontal and vertical, (e.g. gravity loads are vertical and wind loads
frequently regarded as horizontal). It is usual practice, when considering equilibrium, to
assume that clockwise rotation is positive and anti-clockwise rotation is negative. The
following conventions have been adopted in this text:

x-direction: horizontal direction - positive is left-to right +ve

z- direction: vertical direction - positive is upwards +ve

y- direction: rotation about the y-axis - positive is clockwise +ve

Z

plane (XZ) of the structure X

Figure 1.2
Y
 Structural Analysis and Design 3
Structures in which all the member forces and external support reactions can be
determined using only the equations of equilibrium are ‘statically determinate’ otherwise
they are ‘indeterminate structures’. The degree-of-indeterminacy is equal to the number of
unknown variables (i.e. member forces/external reactions) which are in excess of the
equations of equilibrium available to solve for them, see Section 1.5
The availability of current computer software enables full three-dimensional analyses of
structures to be carried out for a wide variety of applied loads. An alternative, more
traditional, and frequently used method of analysis when designing is to consider the
stability and forces on a structure separately in two mutually perpendicular planes, i.e. a
series of plane frames and ensure lateral and rotational stability and equilibrium in each
plane. Consider a typical industrial frame comprising a series of parallel portal frames as
shown in Figure 1.3. The frame can be designed considering the X-Z and the Y-Z planes as
shown.

typical portal frame

Z

X vertical
wind tie beam
loading

transverse wind loading

diagonal wind bracing longitudinal wind loading

snow load wind load rafter Individual frames designed

as rigid-jointed in the X-Z
plane for dead/imposed and
rigid connections transverse wind loads.
column column
In the Y-Z plane bracing is
transverse transverse provided (pin-jointed) to
wind load wind load transfer the longitudinal wind
forces.
wind load

longitudinal longitudinal
wind load simple connections tie beam
wind load

longitudinal
wind bracing

Figure 1.3
Other documents randomly have
different content
reason or will. I begin to think that I must expect less assistance
from my own reason than heretofore.
That long, wild hour of my solitude somehow passed. It occurred
to me to go outdoors. I picked up my hat and stick. Then, irresolute,
I moved to the window and looked out over the city.
While I stood there Sir Robert came up the stairs. I heard his
ponderous step, more hurried than usual, come along the corridor.
There was a silence while, I knew, he was fumbling for his key. Then
a jingling, and the sound of his door opening.
I think that an old man is the structure his younger self has built.
How badly this man has built. Myself, often when tempted to do this
or that, I have thought—“Will it make toward a sweet old age?”
He had talked to me cynically of love, had Sir Robert, only a few
hours ago. What would he say now if he knew the immensity of the
forces he had stirred and brought to the surface of my
consciousness. I smiled as I thought that perhaps I owe much to
that old man. I almost wanted to thank him.
So I stood there by the window, thinking many things. And the
April air was sweet.
After a little time I started for my walk, my second walk this day
under stress of great emotion. But in the course of the few hours
intervening I had crossed a line. The man who was now about to
step lightly down the stairs and stroll out through the shabby office
of the hotel was a new man, one who had never before gone down
those stairs or out through that office.
I lingered a moment by her door. I could hear her light step. And
she was humming—oh, so softly! Humming another song by her
favorite, Franz. It was the dainty, exquisite—

“Madchen mit dem roten Mündchen.”

It seemed to me that there was a new brightness in her voice.

I slipped out into the corridor.
 Sir Robert's door stood open. I stepped across and looked in. I
had pushed my hat to the back of my head, to let the air cool my
forehead. And I think I was swinging my stick.
From behind the closed door across the hall came, very faintly,
that floating, silvery voice.
Sir Robert's room was in confusion. He had drawn his leather
steamer trunk to the center of the room, opened it, and placed the
tray across an arm-chair that stood by the head of the bed. The bed
was covered with shirts, underwear, collars, books and papers in
disorderly heaps. Shoes littered the floor. His evening clothes were
laid out on the table, other suits across a chair.
On the edge of the bed, amid the disorder, sat Sir Robert. He was
in his shirt sleeves. His waistcoat was unbuttoned, his white hair
rumpled so that it stuck up grotesquely over his ears.
“Well, well,” said I. “Is n't this unexpected?” He looked up.
His face never had any color to speak of, but now it was a pasty
gray. His eyes were sunken, but with a curious sparkle in them. He
said nothing, just stared at me.
“Well,” I repeated, “are you leaving?”
Still he merely stared at me. It was unpleasant. I felt my
assurance fading out, and stood stupidly there, unable to think of
anything further to say. “He's here!” whispered Sir Robert then.
“Who—who—” My nerves were tightening. The left side of his face
twitched.
I heard myself saying—“But that's impossible. He would n't be
here yet.”
Sir Robert dropped his eyes now. I was glad of this. They made
me extremely uncomfortable. He began packing his shirts in the tray
of his trunk.
“How did he come here?” It was still myself speaking.
“Good God—how should I know!” he muttered. “What has that to
do with it?”
“Where are you going?”
 “I don't know,” he was answering me. “There are trains in the
morning. And I won't stay here to-night. I won't stay here to-night!”
“Are you sure of this?” I asked. Why was it that my mind seemed
to be refusing utterly to react from this news! Why could n't I realize
it! Why could n't I think!
“He's at the Wagon-lits. I saw him. He is drinking. This is no place
for you, either. I advise you to move quick.”
“No,” said I, “I shall see him. He and I got on very well. I shall talk
with him. It is time some one forced him to listen to reason.”
Sir Robert, I recall, had a shoe in his hand at this moment. It fell
to the floor. At the noise, we both started. His face twitched again—
on the left side. He looked at me, with eyes like little glass beads.
“Why not?” I added.
Sir Robert drew in a long breath.
“Crocker told me he was going to kill that woman and the man
she is living with,” he said, slowly and huskily.
“Yes,” I put in, with a sort of eagerness, “but don't you see—”
“It would be exceedingly difficult to convince a jury,” he went on,
deliberately silencing me, “that she is not at present living with—”
“Well?” said I, thinking queer, rapid thoughts.
“You,” he finished.
 April 12th—very late.

I
WALKED slowly Lack into my own room, trying to think; but my
mind was inert.
In the next room Heloise was still singing, softly and brightly.
I stepped out on the little balcony.
What was it Sir Robert had said? Oh, yes, that Crocker had come
to Peking. This was dreadful. It meant trouble. One way or the other,
I myself was involved in this trouble. A wife is, in a sense, the
property of her husband—in a sense. If she dishonors his home by
leaving him for another, he has some right to be indignant. If his
outraged sense of possession lashes him into a murderous passion
he can not be stopped from killing her. In England now—something
about competent witnesses. And the difficulty of convincing a jury
that she was not living with me....
In the confusion of mind that lay over my faculties like a paralysis,
one curious fact sticks out in my memory. I deliberately shook
myself, standing there on my balcony. I tried to shake myself awake.
I seemed to be recalling a story that the fat vaudeville manager
from Cincinnati told on the ship, one night. It had to do with a
celebrated prize fight in New York some years back. He reveled in
memories of fights, that vaudeville man. An odd mental habit!
On the occasion he mentioned, one fighter was knocked down and
very nearly, as the phrase runs, “out.” Lying there upon the floor of
the ring, dazed, all but unconscious, the man actually beat his own
head against the door in a desperate effort to rouse himself.
Over and over again that picture rose in my mind. I have never
witnessed such a spectacle. Primitive brutality has played, needless
to say, no part in my life. But at this time, caught up and whirled
about, as I was, in a bewildering conflict of primitive emotions, it
was a second-hand recollection of the prize ring that came to my
aid.
The fact is not uninteresting.
I chanced to glance down. A tiny, lacy ball lay there at my feet. I
picked it up. It was Heloise's handkerchief.
I held the absurdly small square of linen and lace in my two hands
and looked at it. I folded and unfolded it. I pressed it to my lips,
again and again.
Am I to become the helpless victim of these crude emotional
uprushes—like any common clerk with his shopgirl? I, who have for
so long observed the human herd from afar with a sort of casual
interest?... I wonder.
Suddenly the thought of the man Crocker came to me. He was in
this city. He was over there in the Legation Quarter, behind the walls
that I could see—over in the big hotel. He was drinking again. And
there was murder in his heart.
It seems to me that this thought—I am trying to face my strange,
new self, and set everything down; God know's I need the discipline!
—that this thought was followed by a little blaze of heroics. I am
somewhat confused about this, of course—one can not analyze one's
own emotions with any degree of accuracy while they are still active
—but I recall going out into the hall and standing there like a sentry.
I was determined to protect my lady with my life. I saw myself
fighting gloriously for her; and I saw her, close at hand, witnessing
my ever valiant act, and exulting in my prowess.
A child has such notions. And, I note, a lover.
I stood for a time at the top of the stairs. Crocker should never
mount those stairs alive. Behind me, through the transom of number
eighteen, there occasionally came floating clear little threads of tone.
Heloise was singing as she moved about her room. She did not
know. And she should not know—not yet. Perhaps I could find a way
to spare her. At any rate, Crocker would never pass those stairs
without fighting his way over my body.
 Once I tiptoed back and tapped at Sir Robert's door; even tried
the knob, but it was locked. He had gone, evidently.
I don't seem to know quite why I sought that old man again. It
was an impulse. Perhaps I wanted him to see that his warning had
had no effect on me, none whatever.
It was getting on into the early evening now, say between seven
and eight. I half-saw one of the Chinese waiters come up the stairs
with a tray for Heloise. I leaned against the wall when he passed.
But for some reason it did not occur to me to order food for myself. I
could not have eaten out there in the hall, anyway; and were I to sit
in my room, even with the door open, there was a possibility that
Crocker might rush by before I could stop him. So I ate nothing, all
the evening. I could n't eat now, if food were brought to me. The
reactions of what we call love are curiously related, it appears, to
the various bodily appetites. I am almost ready to define love as a
general disturbance of all the nerve centers, accompanied by strong,
positive, emotional excitement and a partial paralysis of the
reasoning faculty.
Some little time passed while I stood there at the head of the
stairs. A fit of impatience, that may have had in it an element of
morbid eagerness to hasten the event, took possession of me. After
all, it was not essential that I should stand guard at that particular
spot. I walked slowly down the stairs and, making a strong effort to
appear unconcerned, through the office and out the door. He would
have to come in this way.
I walked slowly along the narrow street toward the Italian glacis.
It would be better, much better, to meet him out here.
There has been a chill in the air this evening. And the wind has
risen, stirring up clouds of the powdery loess dust that is the curse
of this wonderful old city.
For a long time I paced that street, breathing at times through my
handkerchief in order to avoid the choking dust.
As the evening wore away, my resolution weakened. I began to
see myself for the absurdity I unquestionably was—I the thin,
nervous man of science, pitifully inexperienced in the ways of this
sadly violent world, yet endeavoring to swell myself up (like the frog
in the fable) into a creature fit to cope with that world. It is absurd. I
am not a violent man. I don't understand violence. There is no place
for it in my philosophy, for my philosophy is based on fact and
reason. There is no room for violence in an orderly world. Yet, under
the pretense of civilization which is spread so plausibly over the
surface of modern human life, I am confronted at every turn by the
spirit of violence. And my own reason and sense of fact, in which I
have so often sought sanctuary, have now failed me utterly.
Little by little my walks to and fro carried me farther into the
broad open park that is called the glacis. That odd, morbid
eagerness was drawing me steadily nearer and nearer the little
foreign city within the Legation walls.
Finally I entered the Quarter. The great masonry walls fairly
breathed of violence.
There is a sharp angle in this narrow road where it enters the
Quarter, so constructed that the street can not be raked, from
without, by shot and shell.
I passed under a sentry box on the wall, from which an armed
soldier peered out at me—placed there because he might be needed
to prevent or commit murder. For he and his like are but the trained
agents of violence, masquerading behind a thin film of patriotism
and what men still call glory.
Once within the walls I walked very rapidly. I was conscious that
my whole body had tightened nervously, but I was powerless to
relax. The blood was racing through my arteries and veins. I could
feel that old throbbing at the back of my head. And my forehead
was sweating so that I had to push my hat back. I carried my heavy
walking stick—it had seemed that I might need it—and I was
swinging it as I walked, gripping it so tightly by the middle that it all
but hurt my hand.
There was no stopping me now. I went straight through to
Legation Street, hurried along it, past the bank and the big German
store, and turned off south toward the great hotel with its hundreds
of bright lights and its noisy little swarm of rickshaw men on the
curb.
I entered the wide hall that leads to the office and stood there,
while my eyes searched about among the moving, chatting groups
of people. There was a circle of tourists about the old Chinese
conjuror who sat on his heels in a corner among his cloths and
bowls and what not; I walked slowly around this circle, seeking the
erect figure, the solid shoulders, and the drink-flushed face of
Crocker.
I walked deliberately through the lounge, studying every solitary
figure there among the easy chairs and the little tables and the
potted shrubbery.
I went down the long corridor to the bar, and stood squarely on
the threshold surveying the large room. There was a considerable
number of men there—fifty or more, easily. The dress uniforms of
half the armies of Europe flashed their gilt at me. All the tables were
occupied, and there was a solid rank at the bar, behind which slab of
mahogany the sober, silent Chinese waiters worked deftly at catering
to the vics of these dignified gentlemen from the Christian West,
now and then pausing to take in the scene with inscrutable, slanting
eyes. There was much loud talk, some laughter, and, at one of the
tables, a little quarreling.
Here, sure enough, was Crocker.
He sat in the corner across from the door and a little to the left.
He was alone. A whisky bottle stood before him on the table, and a
number of glasses. His face was very red. His big, usually vigorous
body leaned limply against the wall. His head rolled slowly back and
forth. There could be no doubt that he was very drunk. It seemed to
me that he would have rolled to the floor had not his body been
wedged in between the wall and the back of his chair.
I will admit that I was profoundly relieved. Nothing could be done
to-night. Crocker could not act, or talk, or even listen.
 Even now I feel that relief. Though I have observed Crocker
closely enough to know that when he recovers from this debauch he
will be dangerously unbalanced, I am glad of even a day's delay. He
was in what he himself referred to as the “hangover” stage when he
knocked down the waiter at Yokohama.
I may as well admit further—since this journal must be honest or
else cease to exist—that this first sight of the man since Heloise
entered my life and so vitally changed it was unexpectedly unsettling
to me. Despite his condition at the moment, I felt again, looking at
his shoulders and chest and arms and the outlines of his head, the
primitive force of the man. And the expression of his face, now
maudlin with drink, oddly recalled my memory of him as I had last
seen him at the Yokohama station when there were tears on it. I had
never before seen a man cry. I do not know that the possibility of
such extreme emotion in a strong man had ever occurred to me.
He holds ideas regarding men, women and morality that are
profoundly repellent to me, this crude yet not wholly unattractive
man. He is permitting his life to be wrecked for these ideas—which
at least indicates some sincerity. Heaven knows a man can't “own” a
woman, or a woman “own” a man. Neither can possibly possess
more of the other than that other is compelled by the power of love
to give. There are no “rights” in love.
Yet—and this is the puzzling thing—when I was with Crocker, I
liked him. And he liked me.
Savagely as he is mistreating his splendidly vigorous body,
desperately as he is permitting his mind to become confused and
brutalized, he is, even now, by no means a besotted man. I am not
certain that he could properly be termed a drunkard. There is yet
stuff in him. There is energy in him, that could be used. But in his
stubborn purpose of destruction he is incidentally destroying himself.
What is this mystery of sex that it should enter a man's heart in
the guise of love only to tear that heart to pieces?
Pale wanderings, these! And sad. For they tell me that in all the
so-called practical affairs of life I am a weak person of confused
mentality. There is bitterness in the thought.
I rather like that man. I think I feel a deep pity for him. And I am
his mortal enemy. I can not understand it. But it is so.
I think I will give you up, you Journal that have so long been my
companion in the rich solitude of my working life. For this life of
mine is a working life no longer. It has turned off into the dark
byways of passion. My purpose, hitherto compelling, falters now. My
once clear mind is clouded and confused. I do not know when I shall
work again. I do not know what I shall do. I only know that all is
dark and still in the room next to this dingy room of mine, and that a
sad, beautiful woman sleeps softly there. I only know that I love her
beyond my strength, and yet that I seem unable to hate the man
who would hate me if he knew.
It is only a little later—in the very early morning. I have
reconsidered. I shall not yield to this weakness. After all, it may
steady me to continue my old-time habit of writing everything down.
Besides, it is clear that I shall have no sleep this night. It will be
better to keep occupied at something.
It was my weakness for introspection, I think, that brought me to
that state of bewilderment. I seem to get along better when I
confine my narrative closely to the facts. I must resolve again, as I
have resolved before, simply to tell what took place. Just tell it.
I turned away from the bar-room door. A number of men from one
of the legations approached along the corridor. They were talking
and laughing rather freely, and were all tall men, so that I neither
heard nor saw the man behind them until after I had stepped aside
and across the corridor to let them pass in to the bar. And the man
behind followed them in without seeing me.
It was Sir Robert. He was in evening dress, of course, true to his
British breeding. His monocle dangled against his shirt front. He was
bowed a little. His hands shook perceptibly as he walked. And I
observed that same new nervous twitching on the left side, of his
face.
 He stepped a little way into the room and looked about, as I had
done. I waited. I did not seem to care whether he saw me or not,
but felt no desire to invite conversation with him.
His eyes finally rested on the drunken man in the corner. His left
eyelid drooped and drooped, as it always does when he is thinking
intently. It seemed to me that he stood there for a long time, and
that there was irresolution on his face. Myself, I could not take my
eyes off him; it fascinated me to watch his drooping eyelid and the
twitching corner of his mouth.
After a time he slowly turned and came out. He did not so much
as know that I was there. He was studying the carpeted floor—
thinking, thinking. I followed him.
He moved slowly out through the lounge to the street door,
bowing coldly to certain of the individuals he passed. He went out,
and down the steps.
The ragged rickshaw coolies pressed about him. He brushed them
aside with his hand. For a moment he stood there, on the stone
sidewalk. Once he turned, as if to reenter the hotel; but wavered,
and stood still again.
I thought he saw me, waiting in the doorway, but believe now that
he did not.
Finally he stepped up into a rickshaw, and waved his hand. His
coolie picked up the shafts and set off on a run.
I hurried down the steps, leaped into the next rickshaw, and
followed.
He went as directly as the streets permitted to our little Hôtel de
Chine.
So he was coming back!
I dismissed my rickshaw at the corner of the street and walked to
the hotel.
He was not to be seen in office or lounge, so I went on up the
stairs.
 As I mounted, I heard voices. I stopped short when my eyes
cleared the top step, and looked down the corridor.
Heloise's door was a little ajar. I could tell this by the rectangular
shaft of light thrown from her room across the dim passage. Sir
Robert had unlocked his own door, just across from it, and was
standing with his hand on the knob, crouching a little, evidently
listening to the conversation in her room.
I stood motionless.
One of the voices—that of a man—grew a little louder; but I was
too far off, there on the stairs, to catch what he was saying. Then
rather abruptly, the door swung open and the man backed out. He
was the manager of the hotel.
At the same instant Sir Robert, with agility surprising in one of his
age, darted into his own room and swiftly, but softly, swung the door
nearly to behind him. The manager was too intent on his own words
and thoughts to know of this.
I could not think what to do. The one thing I was sure of was that
I did not want to speak to the manager, coming, as he was, directly
from her room. So I ran down the stairs, and was in the lounge
looking at a magazine when he appeared on the ground floor.
I waited a few moments longer, then went up again. I simply had
to know what Sir Robert was about. And again I stopped when my
head rose just above the top step.
Sure enough, there he was—that old man!—crouching by her door
and tapping softly at it with his shaking fingers. I felt a slow, cold
sort of dread creep across my mind and my nerves. I did not move.
He tapped and tapped—oh, so softly! He stooped to the keyhole
and whispered. I could not hear him, but I could see it all in
pantomime.
He gave this up; and stood thinking. He slipped into his own room
and switched on the light, but did not close the door. In a very short
time he reappeared with a white paper in his hand—an envelope,
doubtless.
 And for the second time I had to watch this monstrous old man
get down on his shaking knees and with a pencil thrust his evil
communication in under her door.
This done, he got to his feet (I could hear his heavy breathing),
lingered only a moment, then returned to his room, leaving his door
ajar.
I came on up the stairs then, walking as heavily as possible, and
let myself into my own room here.
I kept silent for quite a time until I heard Sir Robert's door shut.
Then I tapped on Heloise's door. Again and again I tapped there, but
she would not reply. She is avoiding me, and that is disturbing. Her
light went out soon after that.
On looking back, I see that I have spoken of her as sleeping.
Since then I have thought, on two occasions, that I have heard her
tiptoeing about her room; but for the most part it has been
unusually still there. I have wondered if she is out on her balcony;
but I dare not look. I shrink from it. For she is avoiding me. She
would not answer my tapping on her door—the light, nervous
tapping that she knows so well. And one thought stands out in all
the dreadful, turbulent confusion of this hour. It is that I must not try
to see her if she does not wish to see me.
It is just two o'clock.
I shall not sleep. I shall not even undress. This is not wise of me, I
suppose. But it is the way I feel. And I am a creature of feeling now.
It would help to pass these dreadful hours if I could go on writing—
or if I could read. But she will know it if I do not put out my light.
Perhaps she would worry.
So I shall sit here in the dark. Or walk to the window and look out
at the sleeping city—at this rich old capital of a peaceful people, who
smile languidly at the turbulent West from which I spring (like
Crocker and his sorry kind)—who turn from the miseries of actual life
to the philosophy of their ancient seers.
Though, come to think of it, I am wrong here. Even gentle,
contemplative old China has been drawn from her slumber of the
ages into the whirlpool of modern life. I was thinking of the past. I
had forgotten. They are carving out a republic here now. Their
hands are stained with blood. And the sometimes violent bankers of
the Western world sit coldly over them while they struggle.
There is no peace. There is no clear thought. There is only life.
Only life.
 April 14th.

A
LL the rest of that night of the 12th-13th I sat in my dark
room, or softly walked the floor, or gazed out at the sleeping
city fit un my one window. And all night I was conscious of
unusual and increasingly violent nervous reactions. Turning the
pages back, I note that I attempted the other day to write a
definition of love. This was absurd. I do not know what love is.
Nobody knows. It is a capricious and wild thing. It flashes like the
lightning, and rushes like the wind. It grows by feeding on itself. It
exalts. It devastates. It contains within itself all the latent
possibilities of nobility and service, of lust and jealousy, of
tenderness, of sacrifice, of murder. It is a blind, insistent force; yet it
shines before the mind's eye like dewdrops on the gossamer wings
of fairies.
When morning finally came, I stood there at my window and
watched the sun climb slowly over the Legation walls. It was a flat
red sun, hung behind a film of dusty air.
I wondered how long it would be before I should tap on Heloise's
door. Not long. I feared. All night I had been waiting; all night I had
been withholding my hand.
I heard her get up, and stir about her room. I wondered if she had
slept. Perhaps, for she still did not know what I knew.
For a long, long time I waited.
Finally, at seven o'clock. I tiptoed across the creaking floor. I stood
there by the door. I raised my hand, then dropped it. My throat
became suddenly dry.
At length I tapped.
She had been stirring there, on the other side of the door. Now, at
the sound, she was still.
 I tapped again. And again.
She did not answer me.
I whispered her name. I spoke it louder.
This would not do. Sir Robert had tapped at her door. He too had
whispered. She had not answered him. She would not now answer
me. I turned away—hurt, bewildered.
I do not know how long I stood there, motionless, a little way
from the door. I could not think clearly. And all the time it seemed to
me that I must force myself to think.
After a time I deliberately went downstairs and ordered a light
breakfast. But when it came I could not eat it. I could only nibble at
a crust of toast and sip a little of the café au lait.
I went out into the air and walked about. It was absolutely
necessary that I should steady myself. The day was big with evil
possibilities. Crocker, if I could judge from my one previous
experience with him, might be up and about by mid-afternoon. I
must control myself. I must be calm. Crocker had a set purpose and
a strong body. I, presumably, though weak in body, had a mind. I
was the only obstacle between Crocker and his purpose.
It was just a quarter past nine when I turned back into the street
that led to the Hôtel de Chine. The shops, with their highly colored
displays and their quaint smells, were all buzzing with the rush of
the morning trade. Coolies, merchants, purchasers and idlers of all
ages jostled to and fro. Underfoot the children swarmed.
I was picking my way through this busy little thoroughfare, when,
looking up, I saw Heloise step out of the hotel. She wore a veil that
hid her face, from me. And then she was a hundred feet or so away.
She turned in my direction. The street crowd closed in between us,
and for a moment I lost sight of her.
I remember plunging crazily forward to meet her. Then I saw her
again, and my heart stood still. For Sir Robert had followed her out
of the hotel and caught up with her. She had stopped, and was
listening to him.
 He took her arm.
She withdrew her arm from his touch. But she made no effort to
leave him. She was standing irresolute, I thought, listening to him. I
plunged toward them again.
Then suddenly I stopped. For they were walking together now—
right toward me. He was bending down over her. I could see that he
was talking to her, very earnestly. And she was listening!
He reached out with his stick, as I watched, and brushed a group
of coolies aside. He was protecting her.
I just stood there. I could not think out what I ought to do. I had
meant to rescue her from him. But I could not do this against her
wish. A moment more and they would be upon me.
Still I hesitated. Finally, really without any plan of action, I stepped
up and into a Chinese shop and watched them as they walked slowly
by.
He was talking—still talking—in a low, insistent voice. I could not
hear what he was saying. And I could not quite make out her
expression behind her veil.
When they were well past, I stepped out. I followed. For I had
come to this.
At the glacis, they turned to the right, walking, oh, so slowly. And
I, a miserable thing with nothing but ungovernable turbulence in my
heart, dodged in and out among the street traffic, and shadowed
them. I shadowed the woman I love.
They went—without thought or aim, apparently—around outside
the wall of the Imperial City and toward the Chien Gate. At the
western end of Legation Street they paused, and for a few minutes
stood on the corner. He was talking, talking, talking. I saw him
making eager, nervous gestures with his monocle between his
fingers.
Then, slowly, they moved on toward the old stone ramp that leads
up to the top of the Tartar Wall, just outside the compound of the
American Legation.
 I could not follow them here, for I should certainly be seen.
Heloise hesitated once, and it seemed to me that she meant to
draw back. But after a moment she went on, and together they
slowly mounted the incline.
I turned away. I tried to tell myself that there was no significance
in this walk of theirs. Whatever it was he wished to say—up there on
the broad summit of the Wall where they could walk and talk in
quiet, removed from the turmoil of the city—certainly she had a right
to listen if she chose. He had been annoying her persistently. She
was not the sort to run away from anything. She was unafraid.
Perhaps by facing him and hearing him out she would dispose of him
once and for all.
But I did not succeed in imposing this attitude of mind on myself.
And I am going to tell what followed. It marks the lowest point to
which this strange new self of mine has sunk—as yet. It must be
told.
I walked like mad the whole length of Legation Street—a mile.
Perhaps I ran. I don't know. I rushed by the Wagon-lits Hotel with
no more than a glance. I did not seem to care that Crocker was in
there and might soon emerge. I did not seem to care about
anything. I was all empty—life was laughing at me for all the years I
had taken it so seriously and so hard. Yet, empty and purposeless as
I felt, the forces that keep at me so, these days, were overwhelming
me.
I went out through the German Gate saying—aloud—“What do I
know about this woman? What is she to me? Who is she, that I
should permit her to devastate my life!”
Some German soldiers heard me, and laughed.
There I stood, a thin little man, doubtless flushed and wild of eye,
laying bare my poor tom heart to the world; and the soldiers were
laughing at me.
I hurried away. An empty rickshaw was passing. I hailed it and
leaped in. I rode straight to my little hotel. I ran up the stairs. I let
myself into my room, and slammed the door shut behind me. I tore
open the drawer of the bureau where I had carefully put away the
ten cylinders on which Heloise and I had painstakingly recorded the
close-interval scales.
I got them out, the ten boxes that I had labeled so carefully. I
threw them on the bed in a heap. I stood over them. As nearly as I
can recall it now, I laughed at them. For they were hers. She had
made them. She had made them for me; and I had held her within
my arms. The picture of her there on my balcony, came to me with
poignant vividness. And another picture—Heloise, in her chair with
her sewing in her lap, singing that difficult scale successfully for the
first time, and trilling softly and triumphantly on the last note, while
her eyes sought mine. It was all utterly bewildering. Suddenly, from
laughing, I had to tight back the sobs that came.
It was then that I tore open the boxes, one by one, and threw the
cylinders to the floor and stamped on them. They were merely a
waxy composition, not hard to destroy. I did not stop until my floor
was strewn with the pieces. And now no longer in there, anywhere
in the world, a finely perfect close-interval scale as a standard basis
of comparison for the tone-intervals of so-called primitive music. Von
Stumbostel will never know of my triumph now. Nor Boag, nor
Ramel, nor Fourmont, nor de Musseau, nor Sir Frederick Rhodes.
That beastly little von Westfall, of Bonn, can snarl to his heart's
content, unrefuted. And the British Museum will never see this great
result that might well have crowned my work and my life.
All about the room were scattered the bits of broken cylinders. I
stood among them, trying to think ahead. But I could n't think
ahead. All I seemed to know was that I could stay no longer in this
shabby little hostelry where my life had soared so high and sunk so
low.
I cleared a space in the middle of the room with my foot, kicking
the pieces of my once precious cylinders aside as if they were
pebbles. I drew out my steamer trunk, and opened it; got my
clothes from the wardrobe and threw them in heaps on the bed;
jerked out bureau drawers and set them on chairs and on the floor
where I could reach them.
 I was still working furiously at my packing when she came in,
alone. I heard her light, quick step in the hall, I heard her unlock her
door, and enter her room. Then she locked it again, on the inside.
I stood there, coatless and collarless. I wanted to tap once more
at her door. I hesitated over this thought. I resisted it. I fought with
it.
Finally I put on my collar and coat, picked up my hat, and rushed
out. I could finish the packing later. Certainly, I could n't finish it
now, with every nerve tip quiveringly conscious of her nearness,
there behind the thin partition and the shrunken door.
If I should find it too hard to come back later, I decided then, I
would send a Chinese valet from the other hotel to finish the job for
me.
Among the qualities that go to make up the unrest that we call
love, it appears that self-absorption plays no small part. Perhaps this
selfishness, lying at the root of desire, is the element of positive
force in love. I wonder! Certainly, without it, love would be much
more nearly a negative thing than it actually is.
It was very primitive, very confused, very petty, this outbreak of
mine.
But then, life is that.
And I have destroyed my scales!
It was after eleven—in the morning—when I went away from the
Hôtel de Chine.
I was angry, bitter. Nothing in the world seemed important except
my own feelings.
I knew well enough what I was going to do. There were two or
three other shabby little hotels outside the Quarter. But I was going
straight to the Wagon-lits. It was twelve o'clock now. I decided to
have my tiffin there. Then perhaps I would send a man around to
finish my packing and fetch my luggage.
As I walked deliberately into the great, gay hotel, I was in spirit
not unlike a man who has awakened from a turbulent dream. For
here were the familiar folk of the West. On the preceding evening,
when I had first entered this building, the same groups of tourists,
business and military men, and diplomats, with their ladies, had
been here; but then I had seen them with different eyes. Now they
looked natural, as we say. And their voices fell on my ears with a
pleasant reminder of home.
I found a chair in the lounge, and sat hack to watch the bright,
chattering, shifting crowd. I glanced about for Crocker, of course,
but saw no sign of him. A little later, just before tiffin, I looked up his
box, at the desk. I wanted to ask about him, but feared that the
clerk would think I wished to see him. God knows I did n't wish that!
It was at this time, I think, that I began to realize the shadowy
nature of the curious revulsion of feeling that I had been passing
through, on this day. I did not feel so great relief as I had just been
telling myself I was feeling. Those vivid mental pictures of Heloise,
as I had seen her so often in her room or mine, kept flashing before
me.... No, I didn't want to see Crocker. I did want to know where he
was, and what he was doing. His box told me nothing. There were
no letters in it; and his key was not there. But I had no doubt he
was still in bed.
I ate my tiffin alone in the big dining-room, seated where I could
watch the door. I fortified myself with the latest papers, and tried to
believe that it would be pleasant to pass a leisurely hour or two
there.
But I was restless. I did n't seem to want to read, now that I had
my comfortable chair, and unusually good food. When the coffee
came, I drank it at a gulp, and went out.
I stepped over to the desk to pay for my tiffin. I reached into my
pocket for my purse. My fingers touched something filmy—Heloise's
handkerchief! I could not resist bringing it out, there with the
Belgian clerk looking coldly at me, and staring at it—that rumpled
little ball o f linen and lace. This for a moment: then I paid my bill
and walked away.
 I went right out to the street. I had to stare again at the little
handkerchief. I had to press it to my lips. The rickshaw coolies could
see me; but I cared nothing for them, though the tears were
crowding into my eyes.
I did not come to my senses all at once. I must have walked about
until three o'clock or thereabouts. At least, it was twenty minutes
past three when I found myself again in the street that leads from
the Italian glacis to our little Hôtel de Chine. I was humble now, and
very sad.
For I had gone to pieces this day. I had failed the woman I love.
In bitter, jealous anger I had failed her.
I had discovered in myself the meanest of qualities—suspicion.
And utter selfishness.
A dozen times in those hours of my revulsion Crocker might have
come to kill her—and I not at hand.
It was not until I entered the hotel and observed the sleepy quiet
of the office and lounge that I was reassured. I could not bring
myself to go upstairs, for she had made it so heartbreakingly plain
that she would not see me. But surely all was well, as yet. Had there
been trouble, there would be signs of it here.
I wondered if she had gone out for her customary afternoon walk.
This thought bothered me. For then she would be coming back. I
could not escape seeing her. Now, I wanted to see her, and I did not
want to see her. I seemed to have reached a point, at last, where I
knew that I would not go to pieces again. But this was only while I
was reasonably sure that I could avoid her. If I were to meet her
face to face, to look again into her great blue eyes with the long,
long lashes, perhaps to clasp her hand, I knew that I could not be
sure of anything. Once that magic were to surge again in my heart,
my reason would fly.
Such were the facts of that strange revulsion which pointed out to
me for the first time a pitiful flaw in my character. I failed Heloise
when her need of me was most desperate. And nothing but luck (as
we term it) saved her from the worst possible consequences of my
weakness.
It was the first time in my life that I had been put to a rough, hard
test. And—the flaw.
I deduce from this fact the conclusion that the sheltered life, with
its corollary of so-called right living, permits no true demonstration
of character. That fine quality is found in the open, where men (and
women) breast the rough tide of life, and blunder, and struggle, and
suffer.
I paced our little street, from the hotel entrance to the glacis, until
twenty minutes of six. Heloise did not appear; so doubtless she was
safe in her room. Crocker did not appear; so doubtless he was still
drunk, over at the Wagon-lits.
I wondered a good deal about Sir Robert.
Finally he entered our street in a rickshaw. I stood squarely in the
doorway of the hotel as he stepped down and paid off his coolie. He
looked about him with quick, furtive glances as he crossed the walk.
His eyes were tired, but heady and bright. There were spots of color
on his cheeks.
He had to pass so near to me that he could have touched me. I
was staring right at him, expectantly. I wanted to meet his eye, to
make him meet mine.
But he cut me. It was the direct cut, such as only an Englishman
can administer.
He went on into the building. I hesitated but a second, then
turned abruptly and followed him.
He was at the desk, getting his mail.
I came to a stop behind him, and fingered a magazine that was on
a table there. It was my intention to make him speak.
The manager came forward from an inner office, brushing his
clerk aside. He said something—several sentences—in a low voice
and with a hesitating, apologetic manner; then he handed Sir Robert
a paper.
 The old man adjusted his monocle, lifted the paper, and read it.
Then, slowly, he crumpled it in his unsteady fingers and dropped it
on the counter.
“You contemptible scoundrel!” he said, with one sharp glance at
the manager.
“But it is that I do not want to turn out the lady—to the street,”
the manager struggled to explain.
But Sir Robert walked away—into the lounge, where he beckoned
a waiter and deliberately ordered his tea.
I stood there for a few moments, I think, quite motionless. Was it
possible that—
It was Heloise's bill for two weeks.
I stepped up to the desk, and asked for the manager. He came out
to me.
“I heard you speak of turning out a lady,” I said, looking straight
at him. “What did you mean by that?”
He hesitated, then reached into his pocket and produced that
identical crumpled ball of paper that Sir Robert had let fall on the
counter. He spread it out, and smoothed down the wrinkles.
“Perhaps,” he murmured, “I have make the mistake. It is too bad to
think that the lady she can not—”
I snatched up the paper. It was Heloise's bill, for two weeks.
I paid him right then and there—in gold.
He muttered a jumble of apologies.
I cut him short. “You have made a mistake,” I said. “Now have the
kindness to keep your head shut, will you!”
He bowed himself back into his little den. I turned and found Sir
Robert looking straight at me, from his chair. I must admit that his
eyes never wavered. And there, for a long, tense moment we stared
at each other like the enemies we were. Then I walked out to the
doorway to resume my watch.
What a fox he was! Even in his desperate, terror-stricken pursuit
of Heloise, he had deftly avoided entangling himself before an
outsider. And he had extricated himself, as if by instinct, from the
slightest financial risk in the matter. I knew then that this old man
would give nothing save as a quid pro quo.
In a moment more I quite forgot him. I stood there in the little
street, looking at the shopkeepers in their doorways sipping their
bowls of tea after the rush and turmoil of the day. But I don't think I
saw anything clearly; I remember some such scene, and know that I
must have observed it at this time.
For the thought of Heloise, penniless in this sorry, shabby place,
was almost more than I could endure. Though I had wondered, and
even worried, about her finances, somehow I had not thought of her
condition as utterly desperate.
I don't know what she would say—or think; for she would say little
—if she knew that I had paid the account for her. Even yet, I have
not told her. I have got to tell her, but I see that it is going to be
difficult, I must think out some way of broaching the subject.
Perhaps I shouldn't have done it. Or perhaps a more tactful man
would have found some less crude way of managing it. I can't say as
to this.
Standing there, I suddenly remembered that odd little scene of
the preceding evening that I had witnessed from the stairway—the
manager in her room talking to her, and Sir Robert outside, at his
own door, listening.
He had known of this trouble. His knowledge of it had held him
here to annoy her with skilfully aimed persistence. She had been
unwilling to come to me. She had not known what to do. She had
been helpless.
Oh, the thoughts that raced through my mind as I stood there in
the doorway! And the pictures that my heated fancy contrived! I
wanted to rush up those stairs and make her speak to me. It was all
I could do to fight this impulse. I knew that I was going to do this,
sooner or later; but I knew too that I could hold out a little longer.
For I must not thrust myself, an ungoverned, passion-shaken man,
into her trouble.
 If Sir Robert had gone up, I am sure I would have followed him.
But he did not. He sipped his tea for a long time, and nibbled his
toast. I could look in through the doorway and see him. Then he
tried to read. Then he wandered about the lounge, like a tortured
ghost of passions that had died with his prime. Once he came to the
hall and stood irresolute at the foot of the stairs, twisting his
monocle in his shaking fingers.
But then he saw me standing there like a sentry. And he walked
hurriedly back into the lounge.
So the time dragged on. When I looked again at my watch it was
five minutes of eight. It was time for Sir Robert's dinner. Few things
in life. I knew, were more Important to him. Perhaps he would go
over to the Wagon-lits for it. Anyway, unless he had some definite
knowledge of Crocker's whereabouts, he would not wait about here
much longer, for he was a coward; his assurance had been
undermined by the consciousness of his own guilty intentions. That
much I had seen twenty-four hours and more earlier, when he
warned me about Crocker.
But he did not go to the Wagon-lits. He went, instead, into the
dingy dining-room of our own hotel. And I kept my watch, out there
at the street door. A little later it occurred to me that I had seen no
tray going up the stairs.
I stepped in and ordered the manager to send up a waiter to
number eighteen. There seemed to be no use in holding back now.
So far as that manager was concerned, I had crossed the line—both
for myself and Heloise. And he, at least, would say nothing. His poor
mind was already full of such unpleasant secrets as he imagined
mine to be.
The waiter went up, and in a moment returned. The manager
stepped out to me.
“The lady she does not answer to the waiter's knock,” said he, all
concern and deference.
I could only bite my lip, and try to think, and then turn away from
him.
 Pretty soon Sir Robert came out from the dining-room, and made
straight for the stairs. He was walking slowly and rather uncertainly.
It seemed to me that he was a good deal bent. When he reached
the hall, I observed that the spots of color had left his cheeks. His
face, indeed, was pasty white.
I stepped inside and tried to make him face me. But he cut me
again, magnificently. He reached for the railing, and slowly mounted
the stairs.
Deliberately I followed. So we went up to the second floor—he
fumbling along just ahead of me, I holding back.
I stood behind him while he unlocked his door. But weak as he
was physically, he never once let down in his attitude of ignoring my
existence. I am not so certain that he is a coward. I am certain only
that the human creature is extremely complex, extremely difficult to
classify and formulate.
He went in, and made an effort to shut the door in my face. But I
caught it on my elbow, and followed him in, closing it behind me.
He sank into a chair, and looked up at me. Now, at last he had to
speak.
“Well—” he asked, “what is it? Why do you come in here?”
I kept my voice well in hand. Heloise must not hear this.
“To ask you several questions,” I replied. “Where is Crocker?”
“At the Wagon-lits—still drunk.”
“You know this?”
“I saw him, only a few hours hack. Went to his room, in fact.”
He was speaking, I have realized since, with some physical effort;
but his mind was steady enough. He seemed to be simply making
the best of it, since he had been unable to keep me out by force.
“He is not likely to be up and about before the morning?” said I.
“He is certain not to. But they stopped selling him liquor this
afternoon. I learned that from the manager. So he will be nervous
to-morrow. And probably dangerous. Undoubtedly dangerous.” His
eyes flitted about the room, and then I saw that his baggage, all
packed excepting one bag, was still there. “So I will leave him to
you. I take the Tientsin train early to-morrow. And alone, I regret to
add.”
This stung, but I held myself in control.
“I had hopes that the lady would leave with me,” he added. “I
would have done very well by her. Extravagantly well. For she is, I
may say, a person of unusual charm. But now, of course, that you
are openly paying her bills, I leave the field to you.”
I kept my hands close at my sides, and stood straight there before
him.
“I gave you some advice the other day, my boy,” he continued.
“Bear it in mind. The woman is helpless. I confess I don't see what
on earth she can do. For she is a highly impractical little thing She
has very little idea of the value of money. I offered more than I had
any business to—offered to send her back to Europe and help her
along with her studies. It seemed the only way to reach her, don't
you know—the line of her ambition, and therefore her weakest
point. I used all the familiar arguments. And God knows most of
them are true enough—that private morality is of no consequence in
an operatic career, that a woman need conform to suburban
standards only if she is seeking a suburban success. I pointed out
notorious episodes in the lives of great women performers whom we
all admire, women of unquestioned position. But do you know, my
boy, not one of these arguments appeared to reach her at all. She is
to me, I must say, an extraordinary contradiction. Here she is,
deserted and destitute on the China Coast, where a woman can not
travel alone for a day without advertising herself as a marketable
commodity; and yet, so far as I can see, she is, in a sense, a good
woman. Really, it was n't until I pointed out the wreckage she was
making of your life, and the service she could do you by accepting
my money and getting away from you, that she would so much as
listen to me—”
He looked up at me, and his voice trailed off into silence.
 But I did nothing, except to say, in a voice that I knew to be my
own because he was no longer speaking and there was certainly no
other person in the room—
“So you talked of me!”
He bowed.
“You are frank, Sir Robert.”
He waved his hand. “Why not?” Then he went on. “The most
puzzling point in her puzzling story is that part relating to the other
man—the one that brought her out here. She makes no effort to
justify her actions, as we expect a woman to do when she has gone
wrong in the eyes of men.”
“Oh—so you asked her about that?”
“Yes.” He indulged in a wry, fleeting smile. “I brought up
everything—used all my logic, Eckhart. I was, like you, a fool to want
her at all with that crazy husband so close on her heels; but I did
want her, and I worked hard for a few hours.” He sighed. “Do you
know, all she has to say of the man with whom she traveled from
New York clear to Peking, is—' That was a dreadful mistake. I was
n't the sort of woman he thought me.' And when I spoke
sympathetically of his cruelty in deserting her, she quietly informed
me that he did nothing of the kind.... What do you say to that, my
boy? She left him!”
He was quite warmed up to his story now. He even chuckled.
“What do you say to that, young man? This exceedingly attractive
young person, very nearly penniless, quite unhampered by practical
experience, turns the man off, refuses his money, and starts out to
face life—in Peking—alone and without so much as a plan of action!
It is pitiful, of course. It is tragic. But it does stir the fancy. Now,
doesn't it?”
“I don't know,” I said slowly, “why I don't beat you to death.”
His face, I thought, grew even whiter. But his eyes met mine.
“I know why,” he replied deliberately. “Because a gentleman does
not commonly enter the room of another gentleman for any such
unmannerly purpose.”
I bowed a sort of assent to this. He really had me there.
“Besides, Eckhart,” he added, “while you have a perfect right to
call me a fool, you certainly can't say that, as life runs, my attitude
has been unnatural. The woman deliberately broke with life. As a
result of her own acts, she is now outside the pale of decent
society.”
“Outside—where we men are,” said I, very sad and bitter.
He sniffed, rather contemptuously. He thought my observation too
obvious.
I added, as I turned toward the door—
“And at that, after your own tribute to the essential fineness of her
character, your notion of 'decent society' sounds highly technical to
me, Sir Robert. Good-by to you. You will forgive me for saying that I
shall be very glad when you are gone.”
He did not reply. But as I laid my hand on the knob of the door, I
caught a low exclamation behind me that seemed to have both pain
and surprise in it.
I looked back. He had sunk down in his chair. One side of his face,
the left side, had twitched upward so that there was a distinct slant
to his mouth and an observably deep, curving line extending from
the left lower corner of his nose.
“Are you ill?” I asked, after a moment.
He slowly shook his head. “Something snapped, I thought,” he
replied, rather huskily. “But I am all here, evidently.”
“I shall be glad to call a doctor.”
“Thank you—it is quite unnecessary. If you will be so good as to
have the manager send me a competent body servant, it will be
sufficient.”
“But you may need medical attention.”
“Then it will not be difficult to reach McKenzie, over at the
Legation. I won't trouble you further—beyond that matter of the
servant.”
 I bowed and went out, closing his door behind me.
I stood there for a moment in the hall. It seemed a very long time
since I had seen Heloise or heard from her. And now, thanks to that
old man, I had a new set of mental pictures to touch my spirit, and
stir me, and rouse feelings so subtle, so haunting, so poignant, that
I could hardly bear them. Yet, I thought, these are my new mental
companions, these thoughts and feelings and partly distinct, partly
elusive, mind pictures, and it is with them I have got to live for the
rest of my life.
I listened. She was in there, surely, behind that closed door. The
transom was closed, too. I could hear no sound.
I decided then to make her speak to me. And it seemed to me
that now I could give without asking.
My hopes for myself were running as high as that—to give without
asking, and to reassure her poor tortured spirit by so appearing and
acting that she would know, through her fine intuition, that I had
risen to this point.
I ran downstairs and told the manager of Sir Robert's request. I
also suggested that in my judgment medical care was indicated. He
looked puzzled, and a thought worried, that little French manager;
as if unable to determine whether I had killed Sir Robert or had
suddenly become his friend.
Then I came back upstairs and entered my own room. I turned on
the light.
I stepped softly to the shrunken door, and listened. For a moment
I thought I heard nothing; then my heart gave a leap, for her bed
began creaking as if she were tossing restlessly upon it.
She was in her room. However desperate, however tortured of
spirit, she was there!
She made a sound—a sort of moan.
I tapped on the door.
She was silent.
Welcome to our website – the ideal destination for book lovers and
knowledge seekers. With a mission to inspire endlessly, we offer a
vast collection of books, ranging from classic literary works to
specialized publications, self-development books, and children's
literature. Each book is a new journey of discovery, expanding
knowledge and enriching the soul of the reade

Our website is not just a platform for buying books, but a bridge
connecting readers to the timeless values of culture and wisdom. With
an elegant, user-friendly interface and an intelligent search system,
we are committed to providing a quick and convenient shopping
experience. Additionally, our special promotions and home delivery
services ensure that you save time and fully enjoy the joy of reading.

Let us accompany you on the journey of exploring knowledge and

personal growth!

ebookultra.com