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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Masquerader, by Katherine Cecil Thurston
+
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+Title: The Masquerader
+
+Author: Katherine Cecil Thurston
+
+Release Date: April, 2004 [EBook #5422]
+[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
+[This file was first posted on July 17, 2002]
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+Edition: 10
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+Language: English
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+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MASQUERADER ***
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE MASQUERADER
+
+
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+Two incidents, widely different in character yet bound
+together by results, marked the night of January the
+twenty-third.  On that night the blackest fog within a four
+years' memory fell upon certain portions of London, and also
+on that night came the first announcement of the border
+risings against the Persian government in the province of
+Khorasan the announcement that, speculated upon, even smiled
+at, at the time, assumed such significance in the light of
+after events.
+
+At eight o'clock the news spread through the House of Commons;
+but at nine men in the inner lobbies were gossiping, not so
+much upon how far Russia, while ostensibly upholding the Shah,
+had pulled the strings by which the insurgents danced, as upon
+the manner in which the 'St. Geotge's Gazette', the Tory
+evening newspaper, had seized upon the incident and shaken it
+in the faces of the government.
+
+More than once before, Lakely--the owner and editor of the
+'St. George's'--had stepped outside the decorous circle of
+tradition and taken a plunge into modern journalism, but
+to-night he essayed deeper waters than before, and under an
+almost sensational heading declared that in this apparently
+innocent border rising we had less an outcome of mere racial
+antagonism than a first faint index of a long-cherished
+Russian scheme, growing to a gradual maturity under the
+"drift" policy of the present British government.
+
+The effect produced by this pronouncement, if strong, was
+varied.  Members of the Opposition saw, or thought they saw, a
+reflection of it in the smiling unconcern on the Ministerial
+benches; and the government had an uneasy sense that behind
+the newly kindled interest on the other side of the House lay
+some mysterious scenting of battle from afar off.  But though
+these impressions ran like electricity through the atmosphere,
+nothing tangible marked their passage, and the ordinary
+business of the House proceeded until half-past eleven, when
+an adjournment was moved.
+
+The first man to hurry from his place was John Chilcote,
+member for East Wark.  He passed out of the House quickly,
+with the half-furtive quickness that marks a self-absorbed
+man; and as he passed the policeman standing stolidly under
+the arched door-way of the big court-yard he swerved a little,
+as if startled out of his thoughts.  He realized his swerve
+almost before it was accomplished, and pulled himself together
+with nervous irritability.
+
+"Foggy night, constables," he said, with elaborate carelessness.
+
+"Foggy night, sir, and thickening up west," responded the man.
+
+"Ah, indeed!" Chilcote's answer was absent.  The constable's
+cheery voice jarred on him, and for the second time he was
+conscious of senseless irritation.
+
+Without a further glance at the man, he slipped out into the
+court-yard and turned towards the main gate.
+
+At the gate-way two cab lamps showed through the mist of
+shifting fog like the eyes of a great cat, and the familiar
+"Hansom, sir?" came to him indistinctly.
+
+He paused by force of custom; and, stepping forward, had
+almost touched the open door when a new impulse caused him to
+draw back.
+
+"No," he said, hurriedly.  "No.  I'll walk."
+
+The cabman muttered, lashed his horse, and with a clatter of
+hoofs and harness wheeled away; while Chilcote, still with
+uncertain hastiness, crossed the road in the direction of
+Whitehall.
+
+About the Abbey the fog had partially lifted, and in the
+railed garden that faces the Houses of Parliament the statues
+were visible in a spectral way.  But Chilcote's glance was
+unstable and indifferent; he skirted the railings heedlessly,
+and, crossing the road with the speed of long familiarity,
+gained Whitehall on the lefthand side.
+
+There the fog had dropped, and, looking upward towards
+Trafalgar Square, it seemed that the chain of lamps extended
+little farther than the Horse Guards, and that beyond lay
+nothing.
+
+Unconscious of this capricious alternation between darkness
+and light, Chilcote continued his course.  To a close observer
+the manner of his going had both interest and suggestion; for
+though he walked on, apparently self-engrossed, yet at every
+dozen steps he started at some sound or some touch, like a
+man whose nervous system is painfully overstrung.
+
+Maintaining his haste, he went deliberately forward, oblivious
+of the fact that at each step the curtain of darkness about
+him became closer, damper, more tangible; that at each second
+the passers-by jostled each other with greater frequency.  Then,
+abruptly, with a sudden realization of what had happened, he
+stood quite still.  Without anticipation or preparation he had
+walked full into the thickness of the fog--a thickness so
+dense that, as by an enchanter's wand, the figures of a moment
+before melted, the street lamps were sucked up into the night.
+
+His first feeling was a sense of panic at the sudden isolation,
+his second a thrill of nervous apprehension at the oblivion
+that had allowed him to be so entrapped.  The second feeling
+outweighed the first.  He moved forward, then paused again,
+uncertain of himself.  Finally, with the consciousness that
+inaction was unbearable, he moved on once more, his eyes wide
+open, one hand thrust out as a protection and guide.
+
+The fog had closed in behind him as heavily as in front,
+shutting off all possibility of retreat; all about him in
+the darkness was a confusion of voices--cheerful, dubious,
+alarmed, or angry; now and then a sleeve brushed his or a hand
+touched him tentatively.  It was a strange moment, a moment of
+possibilities, to which the crunching wheels, the oaths and
+laughter from the blocked traffic of the road-way, made a
+continuous accompaniment.
+
+Keeping well to the left, Chilcote still beat on; there was a
+persistence in his movements that almost amounted to fear
+--a fear born of the solitude filled with innumerable sounds.
+For a space he groped about him without result, then his
+fingers touched the cold surface of a shuttered shop-front,
+and a thrill of reassurance passed through him.  With renewed
+haste, and clinging to his landmark as a blind man might, he
+started forward with fresh impetus.
+
+For a dozen paces he moved rapidly and unevenly, then the
+natural result occurred.  He collided with a man coming in the
+opposite direction.
+
+The shock was abrupt.  Both men swore simultaneously, then
+both laughed.  The whole thing was casual, but Chilcote was in
+that state of mind when even the commonplace becomes abnormal.
+The other man's exclamation, the other man's laugh, struck on
+his nerves; coming out of the darkness, they sounded like a
+repetition of his own.
+
+Nine out of every ten men in London, given the same social
+position and the same education, might reasonably be expected
+to express annoyance or amusement in the same manner, possibly
+in the same tone of voice; and Chilcote remembered this almost
+at the moment of his nervous jar.
+
+"Beastly fog!" he said, aloud.  "I'm trying to find Grosvenor
+Square, but the chances seem rather small."
+
+The other laughed again, and again the laugh upset Chilcote.
+He wondered uncomfortably if he was becoming a prey to
+illusions.  But the stranger spoke before the question had
+solved itself.
+
+"I'm afraid they are small," he said.  "It would be almost
+hard to find one's way to the devil on a night like this."
+
+Chilcote made a murmur of amusement and drew back against the
+shop.
+
+"Yes.  We can see now where the blind man scores in the matter
+of salvation.  This is almost a repetition of the fog of six
+years ago.  Were you out in that?"
+
+It was a habit of his to jump from one sentence to another, a
+habit that had grown of late.
+
+"No."  The stranger had also groped his way to the shopfront.
+"No, I was out of England six years ago."
+
+"You were lucky." Chilcote turned up the collar of his coat.
+"It was an atrocious fog, as black as this, but more
+universal.  I remember it well.  It was the night Lexington
+made his great sugar speech.  Some of us were found on Lambeth
+Bridge at three in the morning, having left the House at
+twelve."
+
+Chilcote seldom indulged in reminiscences, but this
+conversation with an unseen companion was more like a
+soliloquy than a dialogue.  He was almost surprised into an
+exclamation when the other caught up his words.
+
+"Ah!  The sugar speech!" he said.  "Odd that I should have
+been looking it up only yesterday.  What a magnificent
+dressing-up of a dry subject it was!  What a career Lexington
+promised in those days!"
+
+Chilcote changed his position.
+
+"You are interested in the muddle down at Westminster?" he
+asked, sarcastically.
+
+"I--?"  It was the turn of the stranger to draw back a step.
+"Oh, I read my newspaper with the other five million, that is
+all.  I am an outsider."  His voice sounded curt; the warmth
+that admiration had brought into it a moment before had frozen
+abruptly.
+
+"An outsider!" Chilcote repeated.  "What an enviable word!"
+
+"Possibly, to those who are well inside the ring.  But let us
+go back to Lexington.  What a pinnacle the man reached, and
+what a drop he had!  It has always seemed to me an extraordinary
+instance of the human leaven running through us all.  What was
+the real cause of his collapse?" he asked, suddenly.  "Was it
+drugs or drink?  I have often wished to get at the truth."
+
+Again Chilcote changed his attitude.
+
+"Is truth ever worth getting at?" he asked, irrelevantly.
+
+"In the case of a public man--yes.  He exchanges his privacy
+for the interest of the masses.  If he gives the masses the
+details of his success, why not the details of his failure?
+But was it drink that sucked him under?"
+
+"No." Chilcote's response came after a pause.
+
+"Drugs?"
+
+Again Chilcote hesitated.  And at the moment of his indecision
+a woman brushed past him, laughing boisterously.  The sound
+jarred him.
+
+"Was it drugs?" the stranger went on easily.  "I have always
+had a theory that it was."
+
+"Yes.  It was morphia."  The answer came before Chilcote had
+realized it.  The woman's laugh at the stranger's quiet
+persistence had contrived to draw it from him.  Instantly he
+had spoken he looked about him quickly, like one who has for a
+moment forgotten a necessary vigilance.
+
+There was silence while the stranger thought over the
+information just given him.  Then he spoke again, with a new
+touch of vehemence.
+
+"So I imagined," he said.  "Though, on my soul, I never really
+credited it.  To have gained so much, and to have thrown it
+away for a common vice!"  He made an exclamation of disgust.
+
+Chilcote gave an unsteady laugh.  "You judge hardly." he said.
+
+The other repeated his sound of contempt.  "Justly so.  No man
+has the right to squander what another would give his soul
+for.  It lessens the general respect for power."
+
+"You are a believer in power?"  The tone was sarcastic, but
+the sarcasm sounded thin.
+
+"Yes.  All power is the outcome of individuality, either past
+or present.  I find no sentiment for the man who plays with
+it."
+
+The quiet contempt of the tone stung Chilcote.
+
+"Do you imagine that Lexington made no fight?" he asked,
+impulsively.  "Can't you picture the man's struggle while the
+vice that had been slave gradually became master?"  He stopped
+to take breath, and in the cold pause that followed it seemed
+to him that the other made a murmur of incredulity.
+
+"Perhaps you think of morphia as a pleasure?" he added.
+"Think of it, instead, as a tyrant--that tortures the mind if
+held to, and the body if cast off."  Urged by the darkness and
+the silence of his companion, the rein of his speech had
+loosened.  In that moment he was not Chilcote the member for
+East Wark, whose moods and silences were proverbial, but
+Chilcote the man whose mind craved the relief of speech.
+
+"You talk as the world talks--out of ignorance and
+self-righteousness," he went on.  "Before you condemn
+Lexington you should put yourself in his place--"
+
+"As you do?" the other laughed.
+
+Unsuspecting and inoffensive as the laugh was, it startled
+Chilcote.  With a sudden alarm he pulled himself up.
+
+"I--?"  He tried to echo the laugh, but the attempt fell flat.
+"Oh, I merely speak from--from De Quincey.  But I believe this
+fog is shifting--I really believe it is shifting.  Can you
+oblige me with a light?  I had almost forgotten that a man may
+still smoke though he has been deprived of sight."  He spoke
+fast and disjointedly.  He was overwhelmed by the idea that he
+had let himself go, and possessed by the wish to obliterate
+the consequences.  As he talked he fumbled; for his
+cigarette-case.
+
+His bead was bent as he searched for it nervously.  Without
+looking up, he was conscious that the cloud of fog that held
+him prisoner was lifting, rolling away, closing back again,
+preparatory to final disappearance.  Having found the case, he
+put a cigarette between his lips and raised his hand at the
+moment that the stranger drew a match across his box.
+
+For a second each stared blankly at the other's face, suddenly
+made visible by the lifting of the fog.  The match in the
+stranger's hand burned down till it scorched his fingers, and,
+feeling the pain, he laughed and let it drop.
+
+"Of all odd things!" he said.  Then he broke off.  The
+circumstance was too novel for ordinary remark.
+
+By one of those rare occurrences, those chances that seem too
+wild for real life and yet belong to no other sphere, the two
+faces so strangely hidden and strangely revealed were identical,
+feature for feature.  It seemed to each man that he looked not
+at the face of another, but at his own face reflected in a
+flawless looking-glass.
+
+Of the two, the stranger was the first to regain self-possession.
+Seeing Chilcote's bewilderment, he came to his rescue with
+brusque tactfulness.
+
+"The position is decidedly odd," he said.  "But after all, why
+should we be so surprised?  Nature can't be eternally
+original; she must dry up sometimes, and when she gets a good
+model why shouldn't she use it twice?"  He drew back,
+surveying Chilcote whimsically.  "But, pardon me, you are
+still waiting for that light!"
+
+Chilcote still held the cigarette between his lips.  The paper
+had become dry, and he moistened it as he leaned towards his
+companion.
+
+"Don't mind me," he said.  "I'm rather--rather unstrung
+to-night, and this thing gave me a jar.  To be candid, my
+imagination took head in the fog, and I got to fancy I was
+talking to myself--"
+
+"And pulled up to find the fancy in some way real?"
+
+"Yes.  Something like that."
+
+Both were silent for a moment.  Chilcote pulled hard at his
+cigarette, then, remembering his obligations, he turned
+quickly to the other.
+
+"Won't you smoke?" he asked.
+
+The stranger accepted a cigarette from the case held out to
+him; and as he did so the extraordinary likeness to himself
+struck Chilcote with added force.  Involuntarily he put out
+his hand and touched the other's arm.
+
+"It's my nerves!" he said, in explanation.  "They make me want
+to feel that you are substantial.  Nerves play such beastly
+tricks!"  He laughed awkwardly.
+
+The other glanced up.  His expression on the moment was
+slightly surprised, slightly contemptuous, but he changed it
+instantly to conventional interest.  "I am afraid I am not an
+authority on nerves," he said.
+
+But Chilcote was preoccupied.  His thoughts had turned into
+another channel.
+
+"How old are you?" he asked, suddenly.
+
+The other did not answer immediately.  "My age?" he said at
+last, slowly.  "Oh, I believe I shall be thirty-six
+to-morrow--to be quite accurate."
+
+Chilcote lifted his head quickly.
+
+"Why do you use that tone?" he asked.  "I am six months older
+than you, and I only wish it was six years.  Six years nearer
+oblivion--"
+
+Again a slight incredulous contempt crossed the other's eyes.
+"Oblivion?" he said.  "Where are your ambitions?"
+
+"They don't exist."
+
+"Don't exist?  Yet you voice your country?  I concluded that
+much in the fog."
+
+Chilcote laughed sarcastically.
+
+"When one has voiced one's country for six years one gets
+hoarse--it's a natural consequence."
+
+The other smiled.  "Ah, discontent!" he said.  "The modern
+canker.  But we must both be getting under way.  Good-night!
+Shall we shake hands--to prove that we are genuinely
+material?"
+
+Chilcote had been standing unusually still, following the
+stranger's words--caught by his self-reliance and impressed by
+his personality.  Now, as he ceased to speak, he moved quickly
+forward, impelled by a nervous curiosity.
+
+"Why should we just hail each other and pass--like the
+proverbial ships?" he said, impulsively.  "If Nature was
+careless enough to let the reproduction meet the original, she
+must abide the consequences."
+
+The other laughed, but his laugh was short.  "Oh, I don't
+know.  Our roads lie differently.  You would get nothing out
+of me, and I--" He stopped and again laughed shortly.  "No,"
+he said; "I'd be content to pass, if I were you.  The
+unsuccessful man is seldom a profitable study.  Shall we
+say good-night?"
+
+He took Chilcote's hand for an instant; then, crossing the
+footpath, he passed into the road-way towards the Strand.
+
+It was done in a moment; but with his going a sense of loss
+fell upon Chilcote.  He stood for a space, newly conscious of
+unfamiliar faces and unfamiliar voices in the stream of
+passersby; then, suddenly mastered by an impulse, he wheeled
+rapidly and darted after the tall, lean figure so ridiculously
+like his own.
+
+Half-way across Trafalgar Square he overtook the stranger.  He
+had paused on one of the small stone islands that break the
+current of traffic, and was waiting for an opportunity to
+cross the street.  In the glare of light from the lamp above
+his head, Chilcote saw for the first time that, under a
+remarkable neatness of appearance, his clothes were well
+worn--almost shabby.  The discovery struck him with something
+stronger than surprise.  The idea of poverty seemed incongruous
+is connection with the reliance, the reserve, the personality
+of the man.  With a certain embarrassed haste he stepped
+forward and touched his arm.
+
+"Look here," he said, as the other turned quietly.  "I have
+followed you to exchange cards.  It can't injure either of us,
+and I--I have a wish to know my other self."  He laughed
+nervously as he drew out his card-case.
+
+The stranger watched him in silence.  There was the same faint
+contempt, but also there was a reluctant interest in his
+glance, as it passed from the fingers fumbling with the case
+to the pale face with the square jaw, straight mouth, and
+level eyebrows drawn low over the gray eyes.  When at last the
+card was held out to him he took it without remark and slipped
+it into his pocket.
+
+Chilcote looked at him eagerly.  "Now the exchange?" he said.
+
+For a second the stranger did not respond.  Then, almost
+unexpectedly, he smiled.
+
+"After all, if it amuses you--" he said; and, searching in his
+waistcoat pocket, he drew out the required card.
+
+"It will leave you quite unenlightened," he added.  "The name
+of a failure never spells anything."  With another smile,
+partly amused, partly ironical, he stepped from the little
+island and disappeared into the throng of traffic.
+
+Chilcote stood for an instant gazing at the point where he had
+vanished; then, turning to the lamp, he lifted the card and
+read the name it bore: "Mr. John Loder, 13 Clifford's Inn."
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+
+On the morning following the night of fog Chilcote woke at
+nine.  He woke at the moment that his man Allsopp tiptoed
+across the room and laid the salver with his early cup of tea
+on the table beside the bed.
+
+For several seconds he lay with his eyes shut; the effort of
+opening them on a fresh day--the intimate certainty of what he
+would see on opening them--seemed to weight his lids.  The
+heavy, half-closed curtains; the blinds severely drawn; the
+great room with its splendid furniture, its sober coloring,
+its scent of damp London winter; above all, Allsopp, silent,
+respectful, and respectable--were things to dread.
+
+A full minute passed while he still feigned sleep.  He heard
+Allsopp stir discreetly, then the inevitable information broke
+the silence:
+
+"Nine o'clock, sir!"
+
+He opened his eyes, murmured something, and closed them again.
+
+The man moved to the window, quietly pulled back the curtains
+and half drew the blind.
+
+"Better night, sir, I hope?" he ventured, softly.
+
+Chilcote had drawn the bedclothes over his face to screen
+himself from the daylight, murky though it was.
+
+"Yes," he responded.  "Those beastly nightmares didn't trouble
+me, for once."  He shivered a little as at some recollection.
+"But don't talk--don't remind me of them.  I hate a man who
+has no originality."  He spoke sharply.  At times he showed an
+almost childish irritation over trivial things.
+
+Allsopp took the remark in silence.  Crossing the wide room,
+he began to lay out his master's clothes.  The action affected
+Chilcote to fresh annoyance.
+
+"Confound it!" he said.  "I'm sick of that routine: I can see
+you laying out my winding-sheet the day of my burial.  Leave
+those things.  Come back in half an hour."
+
+Allsopp allowed himself one glance at his master's figure
+huddled in the great bed; then, laying aside the coat he was
+holding, he moved to the door.  With his: fingers on the
+handle he paused.
+
+"Will you breakfast in your own room, sir--or down-stairs?"
+
+Chilcote drew the clothes more tightly round his shoulders.
+"Oh, anywhere--nowhere!" he said.  "I don't care."
+
+Allsopp softly withdrew.
+
+Left to himself, Chilcote sat up in bed and lifted the salver
+to his knees.  The sudden movement jarred him physically; he
+drew a handkerchief from under the pillow and wiped his
+forehead; then he held his hand to the light and studied it.
+The hand looked sallow and unsteady.  With a nervous gesture
+he thrust the salver back upon the table and slid out of bed.
+
+Moving hastily across the room, he stopped before one of the
+tall wardrobes and swung the door open; then after a furtive
+glance around the room he thrust his hand into the recesses of
+a shelf and fumbled there.
+
+The thing he sought was evidently not hard to find.  for
+almost at once he withdrew his hand and moved from the
+wardrobe to a table beside the fireplace, carrying a small
+glass tube filled with tabloids.
+
+On the table were a decanter, a siphon, and a water-jug.
+Mixing some whiskey, he uncorked the tube, again he glanced
+apprehensively towards the door, then with a very nervous hand
+dropped two tabloids into the glass.
+
+While they dissolved he stood with his hand on the table and
+his eyes fixed on the floor, evidently restraining his
+impatience.  Instantly they had disappeared he seized the
+glass and drained it at a draught, replaced the bottle in the
+wardrobe, and, shivering slightly in the raw air, slipped back
+into bed.
+
+When Allsopp returned he was sitting up, a cigarette between
+his lips, the teacup standing empty on the salver.  The
+nervous irritability had gone from his manner.  He no longer
+moved jerkily, his eyes looked brighter, his pale skin more
+healthy.
+
+"Ah, Allsopp," he said, "there are some moments in life, after
+all.  It isn't all blank wall."
+
+"I ordered breakfast in the small morning-room, sir," said
+Allsopp, without a change of expression.
+
+Chilcote breakfasted at ten.  His appetite, always fickle, was
+particularly uncertain in the early hours.  He helped himself
+to some fish, but sent away his plate untouched; then, having
+drunk two cups of tea, he pushed back his chair, lighted a
+fresh cigarette, and shook out the morning's newspaper.
+
+Twice he shook it out and twice turned it, but the reluctance
+to fix his mind upon it made him dally.
+
+The effect of the morphia tabloids was still apparent in the
+greater steadiness of his hand and eye, the regained quiet of
+his susceptibilities, but the respite was temporary and
+lethargic.  The early days--the days of six years ago, when
+these tabloids meant an even sweep of thought, lucidity of
+brain, a balance of judgment in thought and effort--were days
+of the past.  As he had said of Lexington and his vice, the
+slave had become master.
+
+As he folded the paper in a last attempt at interest, the door
+opened and his secretary came a step or two into the room.
+
+"Good-morning, sir!" he said.  "Forgive me for being so
+untimely."
+
+He was a fresh-mannered, bright-eyed boy of twenty-three.  His
+breezy alertness, his deference, as to a man who had attained
+what he aspired to, amused and depressed Chilcote by turns.
+
+"Good-morning, Blessington.  What is it now?"  He sighed
+through habit, and, putting up his hand, warded off a ray of
+sun that had forced itself through the misty atmosphere as if
+by mistake.
+
+The boy smiled.  "It's that business of the Wark timber
+contract, sir," he said.  "You promised you'd look into it
+to-day; you know you've shelved it for a week already, and Craig,
+Burnage are rather clamoring for an answer."  He moved forward
+and laid the papers he was carrying on the table beside
+Chilcote.  "I'm sorry to be such a nuisance," he added.  "I
+hope your nerves aren't worrying you to-day?"
+
+Chilcote was toying with the papers.  At the word nerves he
+glanced up suspiciously.  But Blessington's ingenuous face
+satisfied him.
+
+"No," he said.  "I settled my nerves last night with--with a
+bromide.  I knew that fog would upset me unless I took
+precautions."
+
+"I'm glad of that, sir--though I'd avoid bromides.  Bad habit
+to set up.  But this Wark business--I'd like to get it under
+way, if you have no objection."
+
+Chilcote passed his fingers over the papers.  "Were you out in
+that fog last night, Blessington?"
+
+"No, sir.  I supped with some people at the Savoy, and we just
+missed it.  It was very partial, I believe."
+
+"So I believe."
+
+Blessington put his hand to his neat tie and pulled it.  He
+was extremely polite, but he had an inordinate sense of duty.
+
+"Forgive me, sir," he said, "but about that contract--I know
+I'm a frightful bore."
+
+"Oh, the contract!" Chilcote looked about him absently.
+"By-the-way, did you see anything of my wife yesterday?  What did
+she do last night?"
+
+"Mrs. Chilcote gave me tea yesterday afternoon.  She told me
+she was dining at Lady Sabinet's, and looking in at one or two
+places later."  He eyed his papers in Chilcote's listless
+hand.
+
+Chilcote smiled satirically.  "Eve is very true to society,"
+he said.  "I couldn't dine at the Sabinets' if it was to make
+me premier.  They have a butler who is an institution--a sort
+of heirloom in the family.  He is fat, and breathes audibly.
+Last time I lunched there he haunted me for a whole night."
+
+Blessington laughed gayly.  "Mrs. Chilcote doesn't see ghosts,
+sir," he said; "but if I may suggest--"
+
+Chilcote tapped his fingers on the table.
+
+"No.  Eve doesn't see ghosts.  We rather miss sympathy there."
+
+Blessington governed his impatience.  He stood still for some
+seconds, then glanced down at his pointed boot.
+
+"If you will be lenient to my persistency, sir, I would like
+to remind you--"
+
+Chilcote lifted his head with a flash of irritability.
+
+"Confound it, Blessington!" he exclaimed.  "Am I never to be
+left in peace?  Am I never to sit down to a meal without
+having work thrust upon me?  Work--work--perpetually work?  I
+have heard no other word in the last six years.  I declare
+there are times"--he rose suddenly from his seat and turned to
+the window--"there are times when I feel that for sixpence
+I'd chuck it all--the whole beastly round--"
+
+Startled by his vehemence, Blessington wheeled towards him.
+
+"Not your political career, sir?"
+
+There was a moment in which Chilcote hesitated, a moment in
+which the desire that had filled his mind for months rose to
+his lips and hung there; then the question, the incredulity in
+Blessington's face, chilled it and it fell back into silence.
+
+"I--I didn't say that," he murmured.  "You young men jump to
+conclusions, Blessington."
+
+"Forgive me, sir.  I never meant to imply retirement.  Why,
+Rickshaw, Vale, Cressham, and the whole Wark crowd would be
+about your ears like flies if such a thing were even breathed
+--now more than ever, since these Persian rumors.  By-the-way,
+is there anything real in this border business? The 'St.
+George's' came out rather strong last night."
+
+Chilcote had moved back to the table.  His face was pale from
+his outburst and his fingers toyed restlessly with the open
+newspaper.
+
+"I haven't seen the 'St. George's'," he said, hastily.
+"Lakely is always ready to shake the red rag where Russia is
+concerned; whether we are to enter the arena is another matter.
+But what about Craig, Burnage?  I think you mentioned
+something of a contract."
+
+"Oh, don't worry about that, sir." Blessington had caught the
+twitching at the corners of Chilcote's mouth, the nervous
+sharpness of his voice.  "I can put Craig, Burnage off.  If
+they have an answer by Thursday it will be time enough."  He
+began to collect his papers, but Chilcote stopped him.
+
+"Wait," he said, veering suddenly.  "Wait.  I'll see to it
+now.  I'll feel more myself when I've done something.  I'll
+come with you to the study."
+
+He walked hastily across the room; then, with his hand on the
+door, he paused.
+
+"You go first, Blessington," he said.  "I'll--I'll follow you
+in ten minutes.  I must glance through the newspapers first."
+
+Blessington looked uncertain.  "You won't forget, sir?"
+
+"Forget?  Of course not."
+
+Still doubtfully, Blessington left the room and closed the
+door.
+
+Once alone, Chilcote walked slowly back to the table, drew up
+his chair, and sat down with his eyes on the white cloth, the
+paper lying unheeded beside him.
+
+Time passed.  A servant came into the room to remove the
+breakfast.  Chilcote moved slightly when necessary, but
+otherwise retained his attitude.  The servant, having finished
+his task, replenished the fire and left the room.  Chilcote
+still sat on.
+
+At last, feeling numbed, he rose and crossed to the fireplace.
+The clock on the mantel-piece stared him in the face.  He
+looked at it, started slightly, then drew out his watch.
+Watch and clock corresponded.  Each marked twelve o'clock.
+With a nervous motion he leaned forward and pressed the
+electric bell long and hard.
+
+Instantly a servant answered.
+
+"Is Mr. Blessington in the study?" Chilcote asked.
+
+"He was there, sir, five minutes back."
+
+Chilcote looked relieved.
+
+"All right!  Tell him I have gone out--had to go out.
+Something important.  You understand?"
+
+"I understand, sir."
+
+But before the words had been properly spoken Chilcote had
+passed the man and walked into the hall.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+
+Leaving his house, Chilcote walked forward quickly and
+aimlessly.  With the sting of the outer air the recollection
+of last night's adventure came back upon him.  Since the hour
+of his waking it had hung about with vague persistence, but
+now in the clear light of day it seemed to stand out with a
+fuller peculiarity.
+
+The thing was preposterous, nevertheless it was genuine.  He
+was wearing the overcoat he had worn, the night before, and,
+acting on impulse, he thrust his hand into the pocket and drew
+out the stranger's card.
+
+"Mr. John Loder!"  He read the name over as he walked along,
+and it mechanically repeated itself in his brain--falling into
+measure with his steps.  Who was John Loder?  What was he?
+The questions tantalized him till his pace unconsciously
+increased.  The thought that two men so absurdly alike could
+inhabit the same, city and remain unknown to each other faced
+him as a problem: it tangled with his personal worries and
+aggravated them.  There seemed to be almost a danger in such
+an extraordinary likeness.  He began to regret his impetuosity
+in thrusting his card upon the man.  Then, again, how he had
+let himself go on the subject of Lexington!  How narrowly he
+had escaped compromise!  He turned hot and cold at the
+recollection of what he had said and what he might have said.
+Then for the first time he paused in his walk and looked
+about him.
+
+On leaving Grosvenor Square he had turned westward, moving
+rapidly till the Marble Arch was reached; there, still
+oblivious to his surroundings, he had crossed the roadway to
+the Edgware Road, passing along it to the labyrinth of shabby
+streets that lie behind Paddington.  Now, as he glanced about
+him, he saw with some surprise how far he had come.
+
+The damp remnants of the fog still hung about the house-tops
+in a filmy veil; there were no glimpses of green to break the
+monotony of tone; all was quiet, dingy, neglected.  But to
+Chilcote the shabbiness was restful, the subdued atmosphere a
+satisfaction.  Among these sad houses, these passers-by, each
+filled with his own concerns, he experienced a sense of
+respite and relief.  In the fashionable streets that bounded
+his own horizon, if a man paused in his walk to work out an
+idea he instantly drew a crowd of inquisitive or contemptuous
+eyes; here, if a man halted for half an hour it was nobody's
+business but his own.
+
+Enjoying this thought, he wandered on for close upon an hour,
+moving from one street to another with steps that were
+listless or rapid, as inclination prompted; then, still acting
+with vagrant aimlessness, he stopped in his wanderings and
+entered a small eating-house.
+
+The place was low-ceiled and dirty, the air hot and steaming
+with the smell of food, but Chilcote passed through the door
+and moved to one of the tables with no expression of disgust,
+and with far less furtive watchfulness than he used in his own
+house.  By a curious mental twist he felt greater freedom,
+larger opportunities in drab surroundings such as these than
+in the broad issues and weighty responsibilities of his own
+life.  Choosing a corner seat, he called for coffee; and
+there, protected by shadow and wrapped in cigarette smoke, he
+set about imagining himself some vagrant unit who had slipped
+his moorings and was blissfully adrift.
+
+The imagination was pleasant while it lasted, but with him
+nothing was permanent.  Of late the greater part of his
+sufferings had been comprised in the irritable fickleness of
+all his aims--the distaste for and impossibility of sustained
+effort in any direction.  He had barely lighted a second
+cigarette when the old restlessness fell upon him; he stirred
+nervously in his seat, and the cigarette was scarcely burned
+out when he rose, paid his small bill, and left the shop.
+
+Outside on the pavement he halted, pulled out his watch, and
+saw that two hours stretched in front before any appointment
+claimed his attention.  He wondered vaguely where he might go
+to--what he might do in those two hours?  In the last few
+minutes a distaste for solitude had risen in his mind, giving
+the close street a loneliness that had escaped him before.
+
+As he stood wavering a cab passed slowly down the street.  The
+sight of a well-dressed man roused the cabman; flicking his
+whip, he passed Chilcote close, feigning to pull up.
+
+The cab suggested civilization.  Chilcote's mind veered
+suddenly and he raised his hand.  The vehicle stopped and he
+climbed in.
+
+"Where, sir?" The cabman peered down through the roof-door.
+
+Chilcote raised his head.  "Oh, anywhere near Pall Mall," he
+said.  Then, as the horse started forward, he put up his hand
+and shook the trap-door.  "Wait!" he called.  "I've changed my
+mind.  Drive to Cadogan Gardens--No. 33."
+
+The distance to Cadogan Gardens was covered quickly.  Chilcote
+had hardly realized that his destination was reached when the
+cab pulled up.  Jumping out, he paid the fare and walked
+quickly to the hall-door of No. 33.
+
+"Is Lady Astrupp at home?" he asked, sharply, as the door
+swung back in answer to his knock.
+
+The servant drew back deferentially.  "Her ladyship has almost
+finished lunch, sir," he said.
+
+For answer Chilcote stepped through the door-way and walked
+half-way across the hall.
+
+"All right," he said.  "But don't disturb her on my account.
+I'll wait in the white room till she has finished."  And,
+without taking further notice of the servant, he began to
+mount the stairs.
+
+In the room where he had chosen to wait a pleasant wood-fire
+brightened the dull January afternoon and softened the thick,
+white curtains, the gilt furniture, and the Venetian vases
+filled with white roses.  Moving straight forward, Chilcote
+paused by the grate and stretched his hands to the blaze;
+then, with his usual instability, he turned and passed to a
+couch that stood a yard or two away.
+
+On the couch, tucked away between a novel and a crystal
+gazing-ball, was a white Persian kitten, fast asleep.
+Chilcote picked up the ball and held it between his eyes and
+the fire; then he laughed superciliously, tossed it back into
+its place, and caught the kitten's tail.  The little animal
+stirred, stretched itself, and began to purr.  At the same
+moment the door of the room opened.
+
+Chilcote turned round.  "I particularly said you were not to
+be disturbed," he began.  "Have I merited displeasure?"  He
+spoke fast, with the uneasy tone that so often underran his
+words.
+
+Lady Astrupp took his hand with a confiding gesture and
+smiled.
+
+"Never displeasure," she said, lingeringly, and again she
+smiled.  The smile might have struck a close observer as
+faintly, artificial.  But what man in Chilcote's frame of mind
+has time to be observant where women are concerned?  The
+manner of the smile was very sweet and almost caressing
+--and that sufficed.
+
+"What have you been doing?" she asked, after a moment.  "I
+thought I was quite forgotten."  She moved across to the
+couch, picked up the kitten, and kissed it.  "Isn't this
+sweet?" she added.
+
+She looked very graceful as she turned, holding the little
+animal up.  She was a woman of twenty-seven, but she looked a
+girl.  The outline of her face was pure, the pale gold of her
+hair almost ethereal, and her tall, slight figure still
+suggested the suppleness, the possibility of future
+development, that belongs to youth.  She wore a lace-colored
+gown that harmonized with the room and with the delicacy of
+her skin.
+
+"Now sit down and rest--or walk about the room.  I sha'n't
+mind which."  She nestled into the couch and picked up the
+crystal ball.
+
+"What is the toy for?" Chilcote looked at her from the
+mantel-piece, against which he was resting.  He had never defined
+the precise attraction that Lillian Astrupp held for him.  Her
+shallowness soothed him; her inconsequent egotism helped him
+to forget himself.  She never asked him how he was, she never
+expected impossibilities.  She let him come and go and act as
+he pleased, never demanding reasons.  Like the kitten, she was
+charming and graceful and easily amused; it was possible that,
+also like the kitten, she could scratch and be spiteful on
+occasion, but that did not weigh with him.  He sometimes
+expressed a vague envy of the late Lord Astrupp; but, even had
+circumstances permitted, it is doubtful whether he would have
+chosen to be his successor.  Lillian as a friend was
+delightful, but Lillian as a wife would have been a different
+consideration.
+
+"What is the toy for?" he asked again.
+
+She looked up slowly.  "How cruel of you, Jack!  It is my very
+latest hobby."
+
+It was part of her attraction that she was never without a
+craze.  Each new one was as fleeting as the last, but to each
+she brought the same delightfully insincere enthusiasm, the
+same picturesque devotion.  Each was a pose, but she posed so
+sweetly that nobody lost patience.
+
+"You mustn't laugh!" she protested, letting the kitten slip to
+the ground.  "I've had lessons at five guineas each from the
+most fascinating person--a professional; and I'm becoming
+quite an adept.  Of course I haven't been much beyond the
+milky appearance yet, but the milky appearance is everything,
+you know; the rest will come.  I am trying to persuade Blanche
+to let me have a pavilion at her party in March, and gaze for
+all you dull political people."  Again she smiled.
+
+Chilcote smiled as well.  "How is it done?" he asked,
+momentarily amused.
+
+"Oh, the doing is quite delicious.  You sit at a table with
+the ball in front of you; then you take the subject's hands,
+spread them out on the table, and stroke them very softly
+while you gaze into the crystal; that gets up the sympathy,
+you know."  She looked up innocently.  "Shall I show you?"
+
+Chilcote moved a small table nearer to the couch and spread
+his hands upon it, palms downward.  "Like this, eh?" he said.
+Then a ridiculous nervousness seized him and he moved away.
+"Some other day," he said, quickly.  "You can show me some
+other day.  I'm not very fit this afternoon."
+
+If Lillian felt any disappointment, she showed none.  "Poor
+old thing!" she said, softly.  "Try to sit here by me and we
+won't bother about anything."  She made a place for him beside
+her, and as he dropped into it she took his hand and patted it
+sympathetically.
+
+The touch was soothing, and he bore it patiently enough.
+After a moment she lifted the hand with a little exclamation
+of reproof.
+
+"You degenerate person!  You have ceased to manicure.  What
+has become of my excellent training?"
+
+Chilcote laughed.  "Run to seed," he said, lightly.  Then his
+expression and tone changed.  "When a man gets to my age," he
+added, "little social luxuries don't seem worth while; the
+social necessities are irksome enough.  Personally, I envy the
+beggar in the street--exempt from shaving, exempt from
+washing--"
+
+Lillian raised her delicate eyebrows.  The sentiment was
+beyond her perception.
+
+"But manicuring," she said, reproachfully, "when you have such
+nice hands.  It was your hands and your eyes, you know, that
+first appealed to me."  She sighed gently, with a touch of
+sentimental remembrance.  "And I thought it so strong of you
+not to wear rings--it must be such a temptation."  She looked
+down at her own fingers, glittering with jewels.
+
+But the momentary pleasure of her touch was gone.  Chilcote
+drew away his hand and picked up the book that lay between
+them.
+
+"Other Men's Shoes!" he read.  "A novel, of course?"
+
+She smiled.  "Of course.  Such a fantastic story.  Two men
+changing identities."
+
+Chilcote rose and walked back to the mantel-piece.
+
+"Changing identities?" he said, with a touch of interest.
+
+"Yes.  One man is an artist, the other a millionaire; one
+wants to know what fame is like, the other wants to know how
+it feels to be really sinfully rich.  So they exchange
+experiences for a month."  She laughed.
+
+Chilcote laughed as well.  "But how?" he asked.
+
+"Oh, I told you the idea was absurd.  Fancy two people so much
+alike that neither their friends nor their servants see any
+difference!  Such a thing couldn't be, could it?"
+
+Chilcote looked down at the fire.  "No," he said, doubtfully.
+"No.  I suppose not."
+
+"Of course not.  There are likenesses, but not freak
+likenesses like that."
+
+Chilcote's head was bent as she spoke, but at the last words
+he lifted it.
+
+"By Jove!  I don't know about that!" he said.  "Not so very
+long ago I saw two men so much alike that I--I--"  He stopped.
+
+Lillian smiled.
+
+He colored quickly.  "You doubt me?" he asked.
+
+"My dear Jack!"  Her voice was delicately reproachful.
+
+"Then you think that my--my imagination has been playing me
+tricks?"
+
+"My dear boy!  Nothing of the kind.  Come back to your place
+and tell me the whole tale?"  She smiled again, and patted the
+couch invitingly.
+
+But Chilcote's balance had been upset.  For the first time he
+saw Lillian as one of the watchful, suspecting crowd before
+which he was constantly on guard.  Acting on the sensation, he
+moved suddenly towards the door.
+
+"I--I have an appointment at the House," he said, quickly.
+"I'll look in another day when--when I'm better company.  I
+know I'm a bear to-day.  My nerves, you know."  He came back
+to the couch and took her hand; then he touched her cheek for
+an instant with his fingers.
+
+"Good-bye," he said.  "Take care of yourself--and the kitten,"
+he added, with forced gayety, as he crossed the room.
+
+
+That afternoon Chilcote's nervous condition reached its
+height.  All day he had avoided the climax, but no evasion can
+be eternal, and this he realized as he sat in his place on the
+Opposition benches during the half-hour of wintry twilight
+that precedes the turning-on of the lights.  He realized it in
+that half-hour, but the application of the knowledge followed
+later, when the time came for him to question the government
+on some point relating to a proposed additional dry-dock at
+Talkley, the naval base.  Then for the first time he knew that
+the sufferings of the past months could have a visible as well
+as a hidden side--could disorganize his daily routine as they
+had already demoralized his will and character.
+
+The thing came upon him with extraordinary lack of preparation.
+He sat through the twilight with tolerable calm, his nervousness
+showing only in the occasional lifting of his hand to his collar
+and the frequent changing of his position; but when the lights
+were turned on, and he leaned back in his seat with closed eyes,
+he became conscious of a curious impression--a disturbing idea
+that through his closed lids he could see the faces on the
+opposite side of the House, see the rows of eyes, sleepy,
+interested, or vigilant.  Never before had the sensation
+presented itself, but, once set up, it ran through all his
+susceptibilities.  By an absurd freak of fancy those varying
+eyes seemed to pierce through his lids, almost through his
+eyeballs.  The cold perspiration that was his daily horror
+broke out on his forehead; and at the same moment Fraide, his
+leader, turned, leaned over the back of his seat, and touched
+his knee.
+
+Chilcote started and opened his eyes.  "I--I believe I was
+dozing," he said, confusedly.
+
+Fraide smiled his dry, kindly smile.  "A fatal admission for a
+member of the Opposition," he said.  "But I was looking for
+you earlier in the day, Chilcote.  There is something behind
+this Persian affair.  I believe it to be a mere first move on
+Russia's part.  You big trading people will find it worth
+watching."
+
+Chilcote shrugged his shoulders.  "Oh, I don't know," he said.
+"I scarcely believe in it.  Lakely put a match to the powder
+in the 'St. George's', but 'twill only be a noise and a puff
+of smoke."
+
+But Fraide did not smile.  "What is the feeling down at Wark?"
+he asked.  "Has it awakened any interest?"
+
+"At Wark?  Oh, I--I don't quite know.  I have been a little
+out of touch with Wark in the last few weeks.  A man has so
+many private affairs to look to--"  He was uneasy under his
+chief's scrutiny.
+
+Fraide's lips parted as if to make reply, but with a certain
+dignified reticence he closed them again and turned away.
+
+Chilcote leaned back in his place and furtively passed his
+hand over his forehead.  His mind was possessed by one
+consideration--the consideration of himself.  He glanced down
+the crowded, lighted House to the big glass doors; he glanced
+about him at his colleagues, indifferent or interested; then
+surreptitiously his fingers strayed to his waistcoat-pocket.
+
+Usually he carried his morphia tabloids with him, but to-day
+by a lapse of memory he had left them at home.  He knew this,
+nevertheless he continued to search, while the need of the
+drug rushed through him with a sense of physical sickness.  He
+lost hold on the business of the House; unconsciously he half
+rose from his seat.
+
+The man next him looked up.  "Hold your ground, Chilcote," he
+said.  "Rayforth is drying up."
+
+With a wave of relief Chilcote dropped back into his place.
+Whatever the confusion in his mind, it was evidently not
+obvious in his face.
+
+Rayforth resumed his seat, there was the usual slight stir and
+pause, then Salett, the member for Salchester, rose.
+
+With Salett's first words Chilcote's hand again sought his
+pocket, and again his eyes strayed towards the doors, but
+Fraide's erect head and stiff back just in front of him held
+him quiet.  With an effort he pulled out his notes and
+smoothed them nervously; but though his gaze was fixed on the
+pages, not a line of Blessington's clear writing reached his
+mind.  He glanced at the face of the Speaker, then at the
+faces on the Treasury Bench, then once more he leaned back in
+his seat.
+
+The man beside him saw the movement.  "Funking the drydock?"
+he whispered, jestingly.
+
+"No"--Chilcote turned to him suddenly--"but I feel beastly
+--have felt beastly for weeks."
+
+The other looked at him more closely.  "Anything wrong?" he
+asked.  It was a novel experience to be confided in by
+Chilcote.
+
+"Oh, it's the grind-the infernal grind." As he said it, it
+seemed to him suddenly that his strength gave way.  He forgot
+his companion, his position, everything except the urgent
+instinct that filled mind and body.  Scarcely knowing what he
+did, he rose and leaned forward to whisper in Fraide's ear.
+
+Fraide was seen to turn, his thin face interested and
+concerned, then he was seen to nod once or twice in
+acquiescence, and a moment later Chilcote stepped quietly out
+of his place.
+
+One or two men spoke to him as he hurried from the House, but
+he shook them off almost uncivilly, and, making for the
+nearest exit, hailed a cab.
+
+The drive to Grosvenor Square was a misery.  Time after time
+he changed from one corner of the cab to the other, his acute
+internal pains prolonged by every delay and increased by every
+motion.  At last, weak in all his limbs, he stepped from the
+vehicle at his own door.
+
+Entering the house, he instantly mounted the stairs and passed
+to his own rooms.  Opening the bedroom door, he peered in
+cautiously, then pushed the door wide.  The light had been
+switched on, but the room was empty.  With a nervous
+excitement scarcely to be kept in check, he entered, shut and
+locked the door, then moved to the wardrobe, and, opening it,
+drew the tube of tabloids from the shelf.
+
+His hand shook violently as he carried the tube to the table.
+The strain of the day, the anxiety of the past hours, with
+their final failure, had found sudden expression.  Mixing a
+larger dose than any he had before allowed himself, he
+swallowed it hastily, and, walking across the room, threw
+himself, fully dressed, upon the bed.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+
+To those whose sphere lies in the west of London, Fleet Street
+is little more than a name, and Clifford's Inn a mere dead
+letter.  Yet Clifford's Inn lies as safely stowed away in the
+shadow of the Law Courts as any grave under a country church
+wall; it is as green of grass, as gray of stone, as
+irresponsive to the passing footstep.
+
+Facing the railed-in grass-plot of its little court stood the
+house in which John Loder had his rooms.  Taken at a first
+glance, the house had the deserted air of an office, inhabited
+only in the early hours; but, as night fell, lights would be
+seen to show out, first on one floor, then on another--faint,
+human beacons unconsciously signalling each other.  The rooms
+Loder inhabited were on the highest floor; and from their
+windows one might gaze philosophically on the tree-tops,
+forgetting the uneven pavement and the worn railing that
+hemmed them round.  In the landing outside the rooms his name
+appeared above his door, but the paint had been soiled by
+time, and the letters for the most part reduced to shadows; so
+that, taken in conjunction with the gaunt staircase and bare
+walls, the place had a cheerless look.
+
+Inside, however, the effect was somewhat mitigated.  The room
+on the right hand, as one entered the small passage that
+served as hall, was of fair size, though low-ceiled.  The
+paint of the wall-panelling, like the name above the outer
+door, had long ago been worn to a dirty and nondescript hue,
+and the floor was innocent of carpet; yet in the middle of
+the room stood a fine old Cromwell table, and on the plain
+deal book-shelves and along the mantel-piece were some
+valuable books--political and historical.  There were no
+curtains on the windows, and a common reading-lamp with a
+green shade stood on a desk.  It was the room of a man with
+few hobbies and no pleasures--who existed because he was
+alive, and worked because he must.
+
+Three nights after the great fog John Loder sat by his desk in
+the light of the green-shaded lamp.  The remains of a very
+frugal supper stood on the centre-table, and in the grate a
+small and economical-looking fire was burning.
+
+Having written for close on two hours, he pushed back his
+chair and stretched his cramped fingers; then he yawned, rose,
+and slowly walked across the room.  Reaching the mantel-piece,
+he took a pipe from the pipe-rack and some tobacco from the
+jar that stood behind the books.  His face looked tired and a
+little worn, as is common with men who have worked long at an
+uncongenial task.  Shredding the tobacco between his hands, he
+slowly filled the pipe, then lighted it from the fire with a
+spill of twisted paper.
+
+Almost at the moment that he applied the light the sound of
+steps mounting the uncarpeted stairs outside caught his
+attention, and he raised his head to listen.
+
+Presently the steps halted and he heard a match struck.  The
+stranger was evidently uncertain of his whereabouts.  Then the
+steps moved forward again and paused.
+
+An expression of surprise crossed Loder's face, and he laid
+down his pipe.  As the visitor knocked, he walked quietly
+across the room and opened the door.
+
+The passage outside was dark, and the new-comer drew back
+before the light from the room.
+
+"Mr. Loder--?" he began, interrogatively.  Then all at once he
+laughed in embarrassed apology.  "Forgive me," he said.  "The
+light rather dazzled me.  I didn't realize who it was."
+
+Loder recognized the voice as belonging to his acquaintance of
+the fog.
+
+"Oh, it's you!" he said.  "Won't you come in?"  His voice was
+a little cold.  This sudden resurrection left him surprised
+--and not quite pleasantly surprised.  He walked back to the
+fireplace, followed by his guest.
+
+The guest seemed nervous and agitated.  "I must apologize for
+the hour of my visit," he said.  "My--my time is not quite my
+own."
+
+Loder waved his hand.  "Whose time is his own?" he said.
+
+Chilcote, encouraged by the remark, drew nearer to the fire.
+Until this moment he had refrained from looking directly at
+his host; now, however, he raised his eyes, and, despite his
+preparation, he recoiled unavoidably before the extraordinary
+resemblance.  Seen here, in the casual surroundings of a badly
+furnished and crudely lighted room, it was even more
+astounding than it had been in the mystery of the fog.
+
+"Forgive me," he said again.  "It is physical--purely
+physical.  I am bowled over against my will."
+
+Loder smiled.  The slight contempt that Chilcote had first
+inspired rose again, and with it a second feeling less easily
+defined.  The man seemed so unstable, so incapable, yet so
+grotesquely suggestive to himself.
+
+"The likeness is rather overwhelming," he said; "but not heavy
+enough to sink under.  Come nearer the fire.  What brought you
+here?  Curiosity?"  There was a wooden arm-chair by the
+fireplace.  He indicated it with a wave of the hand; then
+turned and took up his smouldering pipe.
+
+Chilcote, watching him furtively, obeyed the gesture and sat
+down.
+
+"It is extraordinary!" he said, as if unable to dismiss the
+subject.  "It--it is quite extraordinary!"
+
+The other glanced round.  "Let's drop it," he said.  "It's so
+confoundedly obvious."  Then his tone changed.  "Won't you
+smoke?" he asked.
+
+"Thanks." Chilcote began to fumble for his cigarettes.
+
+But his host forestalled him.  Taking a box from the
+mantel-piece, he held it out.
+
+"My one extravagance!" he said, ironically.  "My resources
+bind me to one; and I think I have made a wise selection.  It
+is about the only vice we haven't to pay for six times over."
+He glanced sharply at the face so absurdly like his own, then,
+lighting a fresh spill, offered his guest a light.
+
+Chilcote moistened his cigarette and leaned forward.  In the
+flare of the paper his face looked set and anxious, but Loder
+saw that the lips did not twitch as they had done on the
+previous occasion that he had given him a light, and a look of
+comprehension crossed his eyes.
+
+"What will you drink?  Or, rather, will you have a whiskey?
+I keep nothing else.  Hospitality is one of the debarred
+luxuries."
+
+Chilcote shook his head.  "I seldom drink.  But don't let that
+deter you."
+
+Loder smiled.  "I have one drink in the twenty-four hours
+--generally at two o'clock, when my night's work is done.  A
+solitary man has to look where he is going."
+
+"You work till two?"
+
+"Two--or three."
+
+Chilcote's eyes wandered to the desk.  "You write?" he asked.
+
+The other nodded curtly.
+
+"Books?" Chilcote's tone was anxious.
+
+Loder laughed, and the bitter note showed in his voice.
+
+"No--not books," he said.
+
+Chilcote leaned back in his chair and passed his hand across
+his face.  The strong wave of satisfaction that the words woke
+in him was difficult to conceal.
+
+"What is your work?"
+
+Loder turned aside.  "You must not ask that," he said,
+shortly.  "When a man has only one capacity, and the capacity
+has no outlet, he is apt to run to seed in a wrong direction.
+I cultivate weeds--at abominable labor and a very small
+reward."  He stood with his back to the fire, facing his
+visitor; his attitude was a curious blending of pride,
+defiance, and despondency.
+
+Chilcote leaned forward again.  "Why speak of yourself like
+that?  You are a man of intelligence and education."  He spoke
+questioningly, anxiously.
+
+"Intelligence and education!" Loder laughed shortly.  "London
+is cemented with intelligence.  And education!  What is
+education?  The court dress necessary to presentation, the wig
+and gown necessary to the barrister.  But do the wig and gown
+necessarily mean briefs?  Or the court dress royal favor?
+Education is the accessory; it is influence that is essential.
+You should know that."
+
+Chilcote moved restlessly in his seat.  "You talk bitterly,"
+he said.
+
+The other looked up.  "I think bitterly, which is worse.  I am
+one of the unlucky beggars who, in the expectation of money,
+has been denied a profession--even a trade, to which to cling
+in time of shipwreck; and who, when disaster comes, drift out
+to sea.  I warned you the other night to steer clear of me.  I
+come under the head of flotsam!"
+
+Chilcote's face lighted.  "You came a cropper?" he asked.
+
+"No.  It was some one else who came the cropper--I only dealt
+in results."
+
+"Big results?"
+
+"A drop from a probable eighty thousand pounds to a certain
+eight hundred."
+
+Chilcote glanced up.  "How did you take it?" he asked.
+
+"I?  Oh, I was twenty-five then.  I had a good many hopes and
+a lot of pride; but there is no place for either in a working
+world."
+
+"But your people?"
+
+"My last relation died with the fortune."
+
+"Your friends?"
+
+Loder laid down his pipe.  "I told you I was twenty-five," he
+said, with the tinge of humor that sometimes crossed his
+manner.  "Doesn't that explain things?  I had never taken
+favors in prosperity; a change of fortune was not likely to
+alter my ways.  As I have said, I was twenty-five."  He
+smiled.  "When I realized my position I sold all my belongings
+with the exception of a table and a few books--which I stored.
+I put on a walking-suit and let my beard grow; then, with
+my entire capital in my pocket, I left England without saying
+good-bye to any one."
+
+"For how long?"
+
+"Oh, for six years.  I wandered half over Europe and through a
+good part of Asia in the time."
+
+"And then?"
+
+"Then?  Oh, I shaved off the beard and came back to London!"
+He looked at Chilcote, partly contemptuous, partly amused at
+his curiosity.
+
+But Chilcote sat staring in silence.  The domination of the
+other's personality and the futility of his achievements
+baffled him.
+
+Loder saw his bewilderment.  "You wonder what the devil I came
+into the world for," he said.  "I sometimes wonder the same
+myself."
+
+At his words a change passed over Chilcote.  He half rose,
+then dropped back into his seat.
+
+"You have no friends?" he said.  "Your life is worth nothing
+to you?"
+
+Loder raised his head.  "I thought I had conveyed that
+impression."
+
+"You are an absolutely free man."
+
+"No man is free who works for his bread.  If things had been
+different I might have been in such shoes as yours, sauntering
+in legislative byways; my hopes turned that way once.  But
+hopes, like more substantial things, belong to the past--"  He
+stopped abruptly and looked at his companion.
+
+The change in Chilcote had become more acute; he sat fingering
+his cigarette, his brows drawn down, his lips set nervously in
+a conflict of emotions.  For a space he stayed very still,
+avoiding Loder's eyes; then, as if decision had suddenly come
+to him, he turned and met his gaze.
+
+"How if there was a future," he said, "as well as a past?"
+
+
+
+V
+
+
+For the space of a minute there was silence in the room, then
+outside in the still night three clocks simultaneously chimed
+eleven, and their announcement was taken up and echoed by half
+a dozen others, loud and faint, hoarse and resonant; for all
+through the hours of darkness the neighborhood of Fleet Street
+is alive with chimes.
+
+Chilcote, startled by the jangle, rose from his seat; then, as
+if driven by an uncontrollable impulse, he spoke again.
+
+"You probably think I am mad--" he began.
+
+Loder took his pipe out of his mouth.  "I am not so
+presumptuous," he said, quietly.
+
+For a space the other eyed him silently, as if trying to gauge
+his thoughts; then once more he broke into speech.
+
+"Look here," he said.  "I came to-night to make a proposition.
+When I have made it you'll first of all jeer at it--as I
+jeered when I made it to myself; then you'll see its
+possibilities--as I did; then,"--he paused and glanced round
+the room nervously--"then you'll accept it--as I did."  In the
+uneasy haste of his speech his words broke off almost
+unintelligibly.
+
+Involuntarily Loder lifted his head to retort, but Chilcote
+put up his hand.  His face was set with the obstinate
+determination that weak men sometime exhibit.
+
+"Before I begin I want to say that I am not druuk--that I am
+neither mad nor drunk."  He looked fully at his companion with
+his restless glance.  "I am quite sane--quite reasonable."
+
+Again Loder essayed to speak, but again he put up his hand.
+
+"No.  Hear me out.  You told me something of your story.  I'll
+tell you something of mine.  You'll be the first person, man
+or woman, that I have confided in for ten years.  You say you
+have been treated shabbily.  I have treated myself shabbily
+--which is harder to reconcile.  I had every chance--and I
+chucked every chance away."
+
+There was a strained pause, then again Loder lifted his head.
+
+"Morphia?" he said, very quietly.
+
+Chilcote wheeled round with a scared gesture.  "How did you
+know that?" he asked, sharply.
+
+The other smiled.  "It wasn't guessing--it wasn't even
+deduction.  You told me, or as good as told me, in the fog
+--when we talked of Lexington.  You were unstrung that night,
+and I--Well, perhaps one gets over-observant from living
+alone."  He smiled again.
+
+Chilcote collapsed into his former seat and passed his
+handkerchief across his forehead.
+
+Loder watched him for a space; then he spoke.  "Why don't you
+pull up?" he said.  "You are a young man still.  Why don't you
+drop the thing before it gets too late?"  His face was
+unsympathetic, and below the question in his voice lay a note
+of hard ness.
+
+Chilcote returned his glance.  The suggestion of reproof had
+accentuated his pallor.  Under his excitement he looked ill
+and worn.
+
+"You might talk till doomsday, but every word would be
+wasted," he said, irritably.  "I'm past praying for, by
+something like six years."
+
+"Then why come here?" Loder was pulling hard on his pipe.
+"I'm not a dealer in sympathy."
+
+"I don't require sympathy." Chilcote rose again.  He was still
+agitated, but the agitation was quieter.  "I want a much more
+expensive thing than sympathy--and I am willing to pay for
+it."
+
+The other turned and looked at him.  "I have no possession in
+the world that would be worth a fiver to you," he said,
+coldly.  "You're either under a delusion or you're wasting my
+time."
+
+Chilcote laughed nervously.  "Wait," he said.  "Wait.  I only
+ask you to wait.  First let me sketch you my position
+--it won't take many words:
+
+"My grandfather was a Chilcote of Westmoreland; he was one of
+the first of his day and his class to recognize that there was
+a future in trade, so, breaking his own little twig from the
+family tree, he went south to Wark and
+entered a ship-owning firm.  In thirty years' time he
+died, the owner of one of the biggest trades in England,
+having married the daughter of his chief.  My father was
+twenty-four and still at Oxford when he inherited.  Almost his
+first act was to reverse my grandfather's early move by going
+north and piecing together the family friendship.  He married
+his first cousin; and then, with the Chilcote prestige revived
+and the shipping money to back it, he entered on his ambition,
+which was to represent East Wark in the Conservative interest.
+It was a big fight, but he won
+--as much by personal influence as by any other.  He was an
+aristocrat, but he was a keen business-man as well.  The
+combination carries weight with your lower classes.  He never
+did much in the House, but he was a power to his party in
+Wark.  They still use his name there to conjure with."
+
+Loder leaned forward interestedly.
+
+"Robert Chilcote?" he said.  "I have heard of him.  One of
+those fine, unostentatious figures--strong in action, a little
+narrow in outlook, perhaps, but essential to a country's
+staying power.  You have every reason to be proud of your
+father."
+
+Chilcote laughed suddenly.  "How easily we sum up, when a
+matter is impersonal!  My father may have been a fine figure,
+but he shouldn't have left me to climb to his pedestal."
+
+Loder's eyes questioned.  In his newly awakened interest he
+had let his pipe go out.
+
+"Don't you grasp my meaning?" Chilcote went on.  "My father
+died and I was elected for East Wark.  You may say that if I
+had no real inclination for the position I could have kicked.
+But I tell you I couldn't.  Every local interest, political
+and commercial, hung upon the candidate being a Chilcote.  I
+did what eight men out of ten would have done.  I yielded to
+pressure."
+
+"It was a fine opening!"  The words escaped Loder.
+
+"Most prisons have wide gates!" Chilcote laughed again
+unpleasantly.  "That was six years ago.  I had started on the
+morphia tack four years earlier, but up to my father's death I
+had it under my thumb--or believed I had; and in the
+realization of my new responsibilities and the excitement of
+the political fight I almost put it aside.  For several months
+after I entered Parliament I worked.  I believe I made one
+speech that marked me as a coming man." He laughed derisively.
+"I even married--"
+
+"Married?"
+
+"Yes.  A girl of nineteen--the ward of a great statesman.  It
+was a brilliant marriage--politically as well as socially.
+But it didn't work.  I was born without the capacity for love.
+First the social life palled on me; then my work grew irksome.
+There was only one factor to make life endurable--morphia.
+Before six months were out I had fully admitted that."
+
+"But your wife?"
+
+"Oh, my wife knew nothing--knows nothing.  It is the political
+business, the beastly routine of the political life, that is
+wearing me out."  He stopped nervously, then hurried on,
+again.  "I tell you it's hell to see the same faces, to sit in
+the same seat day in, day out, knowing all the time that you
+must hold yourself in hand, must keep your grip on the reins--"
+
+"It is always possible to apply for the Chiltern Hundreds."
+
+"To retire?  Possible to retire?" Chilcote broke into a loud,
+sarcastic laugh.  "You don't know what the local pressure of a
+place like Wark stands for.  Twenty times I have been within
+an ace of chucking the whole thing.  Once last year I wrote
+privately to Vale, one of our big men there, and hinted that
+my health was bad.  Two hours after he had read my letter he
+was in my study.  Had I been in Greenland the result would
+have been the same.  No.  Resignation is a meaningless word to
+a man like me."
+
+Loder looked down.  "I see," he said, slowly, "I see."
+
+"Then you see everything--the difficulty, the isolation of the
+position.  Five years ago--three--even two years ago--I was
+able to endure it; now it gets more unbearable with every
+month.  The day is bound to come when--when"--he paused,
+hesitating nervously--"when it will be physically impossible
+for me to be at my post."
+
+Loder remained silent.
+
+"Physically impossible," Chilcote repeated, excitedly.  "Until
+lately I was able to calculate--to count upon myself to some
+extent; but yesterday I received a shock--yesterday I
+discovered that--that"--again he hesitated painfully--"that I
+have passed the stage when one may calculate."
+
+The situation was growing more embarrassing.  To hide its
+awkwardness, Loder moved back to the grate and rebuilt the
+fire, which had fallen low.
+
+Chilcote, still excited by his unusual vehemence, followed
+him, taking up a position by the mantelpiece.
+
+"Well?" he said, looking down.
+
+Very slowly Loder rose from his task.  "Well?" he reiterated.
+
+"Have you nothing to say?"
+
+"Nothing, except that your story is unique, and that I suppose
+I am flattered by your confidence."  His voice was
+intentionally brusque.
+
+Chilcote paid no attention to the voice.  Taking a step
+forward, he laid his fingers on the lapel of Loder's coat.
+
+"I have passed the stage where I can count upon myself," he
+said, "and I want to count upon somebody else.  I want to keep
+my place in the world's eyes and yet be free--"
+
+Loder drew back involuntarily, contempt struggling with
+bewilderment in his expression.
+
+Chilcote lifted his head.  "By an extraordinary chance," he
+said, "you can do for me what no other man in creation could
+do.  It was suggested to me unconsciously by the story of a
+book--a book in which men change identities.  I saw nothing in
+it at the time, but this morning, as I lay in bed, sick with
+yesterday's fiasco, it came back to me--it rushed over my mind
+in an inspiration.  It will save me--and make you.  I'm not
+insulting you, though you'd like to think so."
+
+Without remark Loder freed himself from the other's touch and
+walked back to his desk.  His anger, his pride, and, against
+his will, his excitement were all aroused.
+
+He sat down, leaned his elbow on the desk and took his face
+between his hands.  The man behind him undoubtedly talked
+madness; but after five years of dreary sanity madness had a
+fascination.  Against all reason it stirred and roused him.
+For one instant his pride and his anger faltered before it,
+then common-sense flowed back again and adjusted the balance.
+
+"You propose," he said, slowly, "that for a consideration of
+money I should trade on the likeness between us--and become
+your dummy, when you are otherwise engaged?"
+
+Chilcote colored.  "You are unpleasantly blunt," he said.
+
+"But I have caught your meaning?"
+
+"In the rough, yes."
+
+Loder nodded curtly.  "Then take my advice and go home," he
+said.  "You're unhinged."
+
+The other returned his glance, and as their eyes met Loder was
+reluctantly compelled to admit that, though the face was
+disturbed, it had no traces of insanity.
+
+"I make you a proposal," Chilcote repeated, nervously but with
+distinctness.  "Do you accept?"
+
+For an instant Loder was at a loss to find a reply
+sufficiently final.  Chilcote broke in upon the pause.
+
+"After all," he urged, "what I ask of you is a simple thing.
+Merely to carry through my routine duties for a week or two
+occasionally when I find my endurance giving way--when a
+respite becomes essential.  The work would be nothing to a man
+in your state of mind, the pay anything you like to name."  In
+his eagerness he had followed Loder to the desk.  "Won't you
+give me an answer?  I told you I am neither mad nor drunk."
+
+Loder pushed back the scattered papers that lay under his arm.
+
+"Only a lunatic would propose such a scheme." he said,
+brusquely and without feeling.
+
+"Why?"
+
+The other's lips parted for a quick retort; then in a
+surprising way the retort seemed to fail him.  "Oh, because
+the thing isn't feasible, isn't practicable from any point of
+view."
+
+Chilcote stepped closer.  "Why?" he insisted.
+
+"Because it couldn't work, man!  Couldn't hold for a dozen
+hours."
+
+Chilcote put out his hand and touched his arm.  "But why?" he
+urged.  "Why?  Give me one unanswerable reason."
+
+Loder shook off the hand and laughed, but below his laugh lay
+a suggestion of the other's excitement.  Again the scene
+stirred him against his sounder judgment; though his reply,
+when it came, was firm enough.
+
+"As for reasons--" he said.  "There are a hundred, if I had
+time to name them.  Take it, for the sake of supposition, that
+I were to accept your offer.  I should take my place in your
+house at--let us say at dinnertime.  Your man gets me into
+your evening-clothes, and there, at the very start, you have
+the first suspicion set up.  He has probably known you for
+years--known you until every turn of your appearance, voice,
+and manner is far more familiar to him than it is to you.
+There are no eyes like a servant's."
+
+"I have thought of that.  My servant and my secretary can both
+be changed.  I will do the thing thoroughly."
+
+Loder glanced at him in surprise.  The madness had more method
+than he had believed.  Then, as he still looked, a fresh idea
+struck him, and he laughed.
+
+"You have entirely forgotten one thing," he said.  "You can
+hardly dismiss your wife."
+
+"My wife doesn't count."
+
+Again Loder laughed.  "I'm afraid I scarcely agree.  The
+complications would be slightly--slightly--" He paused.
+
+Chilcote's latent irritability broke out suddenly.  "Look
+here," he said, "this isn't a chaffing matter, It may be
+moonshine to you, but it's reality to me."
+
+Again Loder took his face between his hands.
+
+"Don't ridicule the idea.  I'm in dead earnest."
+
+Loder said nothing.
+
+"Think--think it over before you refuse."
+
+For a moment Loder remained motionless; then h  rose suddenly,
+pushing back his chair.
+
+"Tush, man!  You don't know what you say.  The fact of your
+being married bars it.  Can't you see that?"
+
+Again Chilcote caught his arm.
+
+"You misunderstand," he said.  "You mistake the position.  I
+tell you my wife and I are nothing to each other.  She goes
+her way; I go mine.  We have our own friends, our own rooms.
+Marriage, actual marriage, doesn't enter the question.  We
+meet occasionally at meals, and at other people's houses;
+sometimes we go out together for the sake of appearances;
+beyond that, nothing.  If you take up my life, nobody in it
+will trouble you less than Eve--I can promise that."  He
+laughed unsteadily.
+
+Loder's face remained unmoved.
+
+"Even granting that," he said, "the thing is still
+impossible."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"There is the House.  The position there would be untenable.
+A man is known there as he is known in his own club."  He drew
+away from Chilcote's touch.
+
+"Very possibly.  Very possibly."  Chilcote laughed quickly and
+excitedly.  "But what club is without its eccentric member?  I
+am glad you spoke of that.  I am glad you raised that point.
+It was a long time ago that I hit upon a reputation for moods
+as a shield for--for other things, and, the more useful it has
+become, the more I have let it grow.  I tell you you might go
+down to the House to-morrow and spend the whole day without
+speaking to, even nodding to, a single man, and as long as you
+were I to outward appearances no one would raise an eyebrow.
+In the same way you might vote in my place ask a question, make
+a speech if you wanted to--"
+
+At the word speech Loder turned involuntarily For a fleeting
+second the coldness of his manner dropped and his face
+changed.
+
+Chilcote, with his nervous quickness of perception, saw the
+alteration, and a new look crossed his own face.
+
+"Why not?" he said, quickly.  "You once had ambitions in that
+direction.  Why not renew the ambitions?"
+
+"And drop back from the mountains into the gutter?" Loder
+smiled and slowly shook his head.
+
+"Better to live for one day than to exist for a hundred!"
+Chilcote's voice trembled with anxiety.  For the third time he
+extended his hand and touched the other.
+
+This time Loder did not shake off the detaining; hand; he
+scarcely seemed to feel its pressure.
+
+"Look here." Chilcote's fingers tightened.  "A little while
+ago you talked of influence.  Here you can step into a
+position built by influence.  You might do all you once hoped
+to do--"
+
+Loder suddenly lifted his head.  "Absurd!" he said.  "Absurd!
+Such a scheme was never carried through."
+
+"Precisely why it will succeed.  People never suspect until
+they have a precedent.  Will you consider it?  At least
+consider it.  Remember, if there is a risk, it is I who am
+running it.  On your own showing, you have no position to
+jeopardize."
+
+The other laughed curtly.
+
+"Before I go to-night will you promise me to consider it?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Then you will send me your decision by wire to-morrow.  I
+won't take your answer now."
+
+Loder freed his arm abruptly.  "Why not?" he asked.
+
+Chilcote smiled nervously.  "Because I know men--and men's
+temptations.  We are all very strong till the quick is
+touched; then we all wince.  It's morphia with one man,
+ambitions with another.  In each case it's only a matter of
+sooner or later."  He laughed in his satirical, unstrung way,
+and held out his hand.  "'You have my address," he said.  "Au
+revoir."
+
+Loder pressed the hand and dropped it.  "Goodbye," he said,
+meaningly.  Then he crossed the room quietly and held the door
+open.  "Good-bye," he said again as the other passed him.
+
+As he crossed the threshold, Chilcote paused.  "Au revoir," he
+corrected, with emphasis.
+
+Until the last echo of his visitor's steps had died away Loder
+stood with his hand on the door; then, closing it quietly, he
+turned and looked round the room.  For a considerable space he
+stood there as if weighing the merits of each object; then
+very slowly he moved to one of the book-shelves, drew out
+May's Parliamentary Practice, and, carrying it to the desk,
+readjusted the lamp.
+
+
+
+VI
+
+All the next day Chilcote moved in a fever of excitement.  Hot
+with hope one moment, cold with fever the next, he rushed with
+restless energy into every task that presented itself--only to
+drop it as speedily.  Twice during the morning he drove to the
+entrance of Clifford's Inn, but each time his courage failed
+him and he returned to Grosvenor Square--to learn that the
+expected message from Loder had not come.
+
+It was a wearing condition of mind; but at worst it was
+scarcely more than an exaggeration of what his state had been
+for months, and made but little obvious difference in his
+bearing or manner.
+
+In the afternoon he took his place in the House, but, though
+it was his first appearance since his failure of two days ago,
+he drew but small personal notice.  When he chose, his manner
+could repel advances with extreme effect, and of late men had
+been prone to draw away from him.
+
+In one of the lobbies he encountered Fraide surrounded by a
+group of friends.  With his usual furtive haste he would have
+passed on; but, moving away from his party, the old man
+accosted him.  He was always courteously particular in his
+treatment of Chilcote, as the husband of his ward and
+godchild.
+
+"Better, Chilcote?" he said, holding out his hand.
+
+At the sound of the low, rather formal tones, so
+characteristic of the old statesman, a hundred memories rose
+to Chilcote's mind, a hundred hours, distasteful in the living
+and unbearable in the recollection; and with them the new
+flash of hope, the new possibility of freedom.  In a sudden
+rush of confidence he turned to his leader.
+
+"I believe I've found a remedy for my nerves," he said.  "I
+--I believe I'm going to be anew man."  He laughed with a
+touch of excitement,
+
+Fraide pressed his fingers kindly, "That is right," he said.
+"That is right.  I called at Grosvenor Square this morning,
+but Eve told me your illness of the other day was not serious.
+She was very busy this morning--she could only spare me a
+quarter of an hour.  She is indefatigable over the social side
+of your prospects.  Chilcote.  You owe her a large debt.  A
+popular wife means a great deal to a politician."
+
+The steady eyes of his companion disturbed Chilcote.
+
+He drew away his hand.
+
+"Eve is unique," he said, vaguely.
+
+Fraide smiled.  "That is right," he said again.  "Admiration
+is too largely excluded from modern marriages."  And with a
+courteous excuse he rejoined his friends.
+
+It was dinner-time before Chilcote could desert the House, but
+the moment departure was possible he hurried to Grosvenor
+Square.
+
+As he entered the house, the hall was empty.  He swore
+irritably under his breath and pressed the nearest bell.
+Since his momentary exaltation in Fraide's presence, his
+spirits had steadily fallen, until now they hung at the lowest
+ebb.
+
+As he waited in unconcealed impatience for an answer to his
+summons, he caught sight of his man Allsopp at the head of the
+stairs.
+
+"Come here!" he called, pleased to find some one upon whom to
+vent his irritation.  "Has that wire come for me?"
+
+"No, sir.  I inquired five minutes back."
+
+"Inquire again."
+
+"Yes, sir."  Allsopp disappeared.
+
+A second after his disappearance the bell of the hall door
+whizzed loudly.
+
+Chileote started.  All sudden sounds, like all strong lights,
+affected him.  He half moved to the door, then stopped himself
+with a short exclamation.  At the same instant Allsopp
+reappeared.
+
+Chilcote turned on him excitedly.
+
+"What the devil's the meaning of this?" he said.  "A battery
+of servants in the house and nobody to open the hall door!"
+
+Allsopp looked embarrassed.  "Crapham is coming directly, sir.
+He only left the hall to ask Jeffries--"
+
+Chilcote turned.  "Confound Crapham!" he exclaimed.  "Go and
+open the door yourself."
+
+Allsopp hesitated, his dignity struggling with his obedience.
+As he waited, the bell sounded again.
+
+"Did you hear me?" Chilcote said.
+
+"Yes, sir."  Allsopp crossed the hall.
+
+As the door was opened Chilcote passed his handkerchief from
+one hand to the other in the tension of hope and fear; then,
+as the sound of his own name in the shrill tones of a
+telegraph-boy reached his ears, he let the handkerchief drop
+to the ground.
+
+Allsopp took the yellow envelope and carried it to his master.
+
+"A telegram, sir," he said.  "And the boy wishes to know if
+there is an answer."  Picking up Chilcote's handkerchief, he
+turned aside with elaborate dignity.
+
+Chilcote's hands were so unsteady that he could scarcely
+insert his finger under the flap of the envelope.  Tearing off
+a corner, he wrenched the covering apart and smoothed out the
+flimsy pink paper.
+
+The message was very simple, consisting of but seven words:
+
+   "Shall expect you at eleven to-night.-LODER."
+
+He read it two or three times, then he looked up.  "No
+answer," he said, mechanically; and to his own ears the relief
+in his voice sounded harsh and unnatural.
+
+Exactly as the clocks chimed eleven Chilcote mounted the
+stairs to Loder's rooms.  But this time there was more of
+haste than of uncertainty in his steps, and, reaching the
+landing, he crossed it in a couple of strides and knocked
+feverishly on the door.
+
+It opened at once, and Loder stood before him.
+
+The occasion was peculiar.  For a moment neither spoke;
+each involuntarily looked at the other with new eyes
+and under changed conditions.  Each had assumed a fresh
+stand-point in the other's thought.  The passing astonishment,
+the half-impersonal curiosity that had previously tinged their
+relationship, was cast aside,
+never to be reassumed.  In each, the other saw himself
+--and something more.
+
+As usual, Loder was the first to recover himself.
+
+"I was expecting you," he said.  "Won't you come in?"
+
+The words were almost the same as his words of the night
+before, but his voice had a different ring; just as his face,
+when he drew back into the room, had a different expression--a
+suggestion of decision and energy that had been lacking
+before.  Chilcote caught the difference as he crossed the
+threshold, and for a bare second a flicker of something like
+jealousy touched him.  But the sensation was fleeting.
+
+"I have to thank you!" he said, holding out his hand.  He was
+too well bred to show by a hint that he understood the drop in
+the other's principles.  But Loder broke down the artifice.
+
+"Let's be straight with each other, since everybody else has
+to be deceived," he said, taking the other's hand.  "You have
+nothing to thank me for, and you know it.  It's a touch of the
+old Adam.  You tempted me, and I fell."  He laughed, but below
+the laugh ran a note of something like triumph--the curious
+triumph of a man who has known the tyranny of strength and
+suddenly appreciates the freedom of a weakness.
+
+"You fully realize the thing you have proposed?" he added, in
+a different tone.  "It's not too late to retract, even now."
+
+Chilcote opened his lips, paused, then laughed in imitation of
+his companion; but the laugh sounded forced.
+
+"My dear fellow," he said at last, "I never retract."
+
+"Never?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Then the bargain's sealed."
+
+Loder walked slowly across the room, and, taking up his
+position by the mantel-piece, looked at his companion.  The
+similarity between them as they faced each other seemed
+abnormal, defying even the closest scrutiny.  And yet, so
+mysterious is Nature even in her lapses, they were subtly,
+indefinably different.  Chilcote was Loder deprived of one
+essential: Loder, Chilcote with that essential bestowed.  The
+difference lay neither in feature, in coloring, nor in height,
+but in that baffling, illusive inner illumination that some
+call individuality, and others soul.
+
+Something of this idea, misted and tangled by nervous
+imagination, crossed Chilcote's mind in that moment of
+scrutiny, but he shrank from it apprehensively.
+
+"I--I came to discuss details," he said, quickly, crossing the
+space that divided him from his host.  "Shall we--?  Are you--?"
+He paused uneasily.
+
+"I'm entirely in your hands." Loder spoke with abrupt decision.
+Moving to the table, he indicated a chair, and drew another
+forward for himself.
+
+Both men sat down.
+
+Chilcote leaned forward, resting elbows on the table.  "There
+will be several things to consider--" he began, nervously,
+looking across at the other.
+
+"Quite so."  Loder glanced back appreciatively.  "I thought
+about those things the better part of last night.  To begin
+with, I must study your handwriting.  I guarantee to get it
+right, but it will take a month."
+
+"A month!"
+
+"Well, perhaps three weeks.  We mustn't make a mess of
+things."
+
+Chilcote shifted his position.
+
+"Three weeks!" he repeated.  "Couldn't you--?"
+
+"No; I couldn't." Loder spoke authoritatively.  "I might never
+want to put pen to paper, but, on the other hand, I might have
+to sign a check one day."  He laughed.  "Have you ever thought
+of that?--that I might have to, or want to, sign a check?"
+
+"No.  I confess that escaped me."
+
+"You risk your fortune that you, may keep the place it bought
+for you?" Loder laughed again.  "How do you know that I am not
+a blackguard?" he added.  "How do you know that I won't clear
+out one day and leave you high and dry?  What is to prevent
+John Chilcote from realizing forty or fifty thousand pounds
+and then making himself scarce?"
+
+"You won't do that," Chilcote said, with unusual decision.  "I
+told you your weakness last night; and it wasn't money.  Money
+isn't the rock you'll split over."
+
+"Then you think I'll split upon some rock?  But that's beyond
+the question.  To get to business again.  You'll risk my
+studying your signature?"
+
+Chilcote nodded.
+
+"Right!  Now item two."  Loder counted on his: fingers.  "I
+must know the names and faces of your men friends as far as I
+can.  Your woman friends don't count.  While I'm you, you will
+be adamant."  He laughed again pleasantly.  "But the men are
+essential--the backbone of the whole business."
+
+"I have no men friends.  I don't trust the idea of
+friendship."
+
+"Acquaintances, then."
+
+Chilcote looked up sharply.  "I think we score there," he
+said.  "I have a reputation for absent-mindedness that will
+carry you anywhere.  They tell me I can look through the most
+substantial man in the House as if he were gossamer, though I
+may have lunched with him the same day."
+
+Loder smiled.  "By Jove!" he exclaimed.  "Fate Must have been
+constructing this before either of us was born.  It dovetails
+ridiculously.  But I must know your colleagues--even if it's
+only to cut them.  You'll have to take me to the House."
+
+"Impossible!"
+
+"Not at all!" Again the tone of authority fell to Loder.
+"I can pull my hat over my eyes and turn up my coat-collar.
+Nobody will notice me.  We can choose the fall of the
+afternoon.  I promise you 'twill be all right."
+
+"Suppose the likeness should leak out?  It's a risk."
+
+Loder laughed confidently.  "Tush, man!  Risk is the salt of
+life.  I must see you at your post, and I must see the men
+you work with."  He rose, walked across the room, and took
+his pipe from the rack.  "When I go in for a thing, I like
+to go in over head and ears," he added, as he opened his
+tobacco-jar.
+
+His pipe filled, he resumed his seat, resting his elbows on
+the table in unconscious imitation of Chilcote.
+
+"Got a match?" he said, laconically, holding out his band.
+
+In response Chilcote drew his match-box from his pocket and
+struck a light.  As their hands touched, an exclamation
+escaped him.
+
+"By Jove!" he said, with a fretful mixture of disappointment
+and surprise.  "I hadn't noticed that!"  His eyes were fixed
+in annoyed interest on Loder's extended hand.
+
+Loder, following his glance, smiled.  "Odd that we should both
+have overlooked it!  It clean escaped my mind.  It's rather an
+ugly scar."  He lifted his hand till the light fell more fully
+on it.  Above the second joint of the third finger ran a
+jagged furrow, the reminder of a wound that had once laid bare
+the bone.
+
+Chilcote leaned forward.  "How did you come by it?" he asked.
+
+The other shrugged his shoulders.  "Oh, that's ancient history."
+
+"The results are present-day enough.  It's very awkward!  Very
+annoying!"  Chilcote's spirits, at all times overeasily played
+upon, were damped by this obstacle.
+
+Loder, still looking at his hand, didn't seem to hear.
+"There's only one thing to be done," he said.  "Each wear two
+rings on the third finger of the left hand.  Two rings ought
+to cover it."  He made a speculative measurement with the stem
+of his pipe.
+
+Chilcote still looked irritable and disturbed.  "I detest
+rings.  I never wear rings."
+
+Loder raised his eyes calmly.  "Neither do I," he said.  "But
+there's no reason for bigotry."
+
+But Chilcote's irritability was started.  He pushed back his
+chair.  "I don't like the idea," he said.
+
+The other eyed him amusedly.  "What a queer beggar you are!"
+he said.  "You waive the danger of a man signing your checks
+and shy at wearing a piece of jewelry.  I'll have a fair share
+of individuality to study."
+
+Chilcote moved restlessly.  "Everybody knows I detest jewelry."
+
+"Everybody knows you are capricious.  It's got to be the rings
+or nothing, so far as I make out."
+
+Chilcote again altered his position, avoiding the other's
+eyes.  At last, after a struggle with himself, he looked up.
+
+"I suppose you're right!" he said.  "Have it your own way." It
+was the first small, tangible concession to the stronger will.
+
+Loder took his victory quietly.  "Good!" he said.  "Then it's
+all straight sailing?"
+
+"Except for the matter of the--the remuneration." Chilcote
+hazarded the word uncertainly.
+
+There was a faint pause, then Loder laughed brusquely.  "My
+pay?"
+
+The other was embarrassed.  "I didn't want to put it quite
+like that."
+
+"But that was what you thought.  Why are you never honest
+--even with yourself?"
+
+Chilcote drew his chair closer to the table.  He did not
+attend to the other's remark, but his fingers strayed to his
+waistcoat pocket and fumbled there.
+
+Loder saw the gesture.  "Look here," he said, "you are
+overtaxing yourself.  The affair of the pay isn't pressing;
+we'll shelve it to another night.  You look tired out."
+
+Chilcote lifted his eyes with a relieved glance.  "Thanks.  I
+do feel a bit fagged.  If I may, I'll have that whiskey that I
+refused last night."
+
+"Why, certainly."  Loder rose at once and crossed to a
+cupboard in the wall.  In silence he brought out whiskey,
+glasses, and a siphon of soda-water.  "Say when!" he said,
+lifting the whiskey.
+
+"Now.  And I'll have plain water instead of soda, if it's all
+the same."
+
+"Oh, quite." Loder recrossed the room.  Instantly his back was
+turned, Chilcote drew a couple of tabloids from his pocket and
+dropped them into his glass.  As the other came slowly back he
+laughed nervously.
+
+"Thanks.  See to your own drink now; I can manage this."  He
+took the jug unceremoniously, and, carefully guarding his
+glass from the light, poured in the water with excited haste.
+
+"What shall we drink to?" he said.
+
+Loder methodically mixed his own drink and lifted the glass.
+"Oh, to the career of John Chilcote!" he answered.
+
+For an instant the other hesitated.  There was something
+prophetic in the sound of the toast.  But he shook the feeling
+off and held up his glass.
+
+"To the career of John Chilcote!" he said, with another
+unsteady laugh.
+
+
+
+VII
+
+
+It was a little less than three weeks since Chilcote and Loder
+had drunk their toast, and again Loder was seated at his desk.
+
+His head was bent and his hand moved carefully as he traced
+line after line of meaningless words on a sheet of foolscap.
+Having covered the page with writing, he rose, moved to the
+centre-table, and compared his task with an open letter that
+lay there.  The comparison seemed to please him; he
+straightened his shoulders and threw back his head in an
+attitude of critical satisfaction.  So absorbed was he that,
+when a step sounded on the stairs outside, he did not notice
+it, and only raised his head when the door was thrown open
+unceremoniously.  Even then his interest was momentary.
+
+"Hullo!" he said, his eyes returning to their scrutiny of his
+task.
+
+Chilcote shut the door and came hastily across the room.  He
+looked ill and harassed.  As he reached Loder he put out his
+hand nervously and touched his arm.
+
+Loder looked up.  "What is it?" he asked.  "Any new
+development?"
+
+Chilcote tried to smile.  "Yes," he said, huskily; "it's
+come."
+
+Loder freed his arm.  "What?  The end of the world?"
+
+"No.  The end of me."  The words came jerkily, the strain that
+had enforced them showing in every syllable.
+
+Still Loder was uncomprehending; he could not, or would not,
+understand.
+
+Again Chilcote caught and jerked at his sleeve.  "Don't you
+see?  Can't you see?"
+
+"No."
+
+Chilcote dropped the sleeve and passed his handkerchief across
+his forehead.  "It's come," he repeated.  "Don't you understand?
+I want you."  He drew away, then stepped back again anxiously.
+"I know I'm taking you unawares," he said.  "But it's not my
+fault.  On my soul, it's not!  The thing seems to spring at me
+and grip me--"  He stopped, sinking weakly into a chair.
+
+For a moment Loder stood erect and immovable--then, almost
+with reluctance, his glance turned to the figure beside him.
+
+"You want me to take your place to-night--without preparation?"
+His voice was distinct and firm, but it was free from contempt.
+
+"Yes; yes, I do." Chilcote spoke without looking up.
+
+"That you may spend the night in morphia--this and other
+nights?"
+
+Chilcote lifted a flushed, unsettled face.  "You have no right
+to preach.  You accepted the bargain."
+
+Loder raised his head quickly.  "I never--" he began; then
+both his face and voice altered.  "You are quite right," he
+said, coldly.  "You won't have to complain again."
+
+Chilcote stirred uncomfortably.  "My dear chap," he said, "I
+meant no offence.  It's merely--"
+
+"Your nerves.  I know.  But come to business.  What am I to
+do?"
+
+Chilcote rose excitedly.  "Yes, business.  Let's come to
+business.  It's rough on you, taking you short like this.  But
+you have an erratic person to deal with.  I've had a horrible
+day--a horrible day."  His face had paled again, and in the
+green lamplight it possessed a grayish hue.  Involuntarily
+Loder turned away.
+
+Chilcote watched him as he passed to the desk and began
+mechanically sorting papers.  "A horrible day!" he repeated.
+"So bad that I daren't face the night.  You have read De
+Quincey?" he asked, with a sudden change of tone.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then read him again and you'll understand.  I have all the
+horrors--without any art.  I have no 'Ladies of Sorrow,' but I
+have worse monsters than his 'crocodile'."  He laughed
+unpleasantly.
+
+Loder turned.  "Why in the devil's name--" he began; then
+again he halted.  Something in Chilcote's drawn, excited face
+checked him.  The strange sense of predestination that we
+sometimes see in the eyes of another struck cold upon him,
+chilling his last attempt at remonstrance.  "What do you want
+me to do?" he substituted, in an ordinary voice.
+
+The words steadied Chilcote.  He laughed a little.  The laugh
+was still shaky, but it was pitched in a lower key.
+
+"You--you're quite right to pull me up.  We have no time to
+waste.  It must be one o'clock."  He pulled out his watch,
+then walked to the window and stood looking down into the
+shadowy court.  "How quiet you are here!" he said.  Then
+abruptly anew thought struck him and he wheeled back into the
+room.  "Loder," he said, quickly---"Loder, I have an idea!
+While you are me, why shouldn't I be you?  Why shouldn't I be
+John Loder instead of the vagrant we contemplated?  It covers
+everything--it explains everything.  It's magnificent!  I'm
+amazed we never thought of it before."
+
+Loder was still beside the desk.  "I thought of it," he said,
+without looking back.
+
+"And didn't suggest it?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Why?"
+
+Loder said nothing and the other colored.
+
+"Jealous of your reputation?" he said, satirically.
+
+"I have none to be jealous of."
+
+Chilcote laughed disagreeably.  "Then you aren't so for gone
+in philosophy as I thought.  You have a niche in your own good
+opinion."
+
+Again Loder was silent; then he smiled.  "You have an oddly
+correct perception at times," he said.  "I suppose I have had
+a lame sort of pride in keeping my name clean.  But pride like
+that is out of fashion--and I've got to float with the tide."
+He laughed, the short laugh that Chilcote had heard once or
+twice before, and, crossing the room, he stood beside his
+visitor.  "After all," he said, "what business have I with
+pride, straight or lame?  Have my identity, if you want it.
+When all defences have been broken down one barrier won't save
+the town."  Laughing again, he laid his hand on the other's
+arm.  "Come," he said, "give your orders.  I capitulate."
+
+An hour later the two men passed from Loder's bed room, where
+the final arrangements had been completed, back
+into the sitting-room.  Loder came first, in faultless
+evening-dress.  His hair was carefully brushed, the clothes he
+wore fitted him perfectly.  To any glance, critical or casual,
+he was the man who had mounted the stairs and entered the
+rooms earlier in the evening.  Chilcote's manner of walking
+and poise of the head seemed to have descended upon him with
+Chilcote's clothes.  He came into the room hastily and passed
+to the desk.
+
+"I have no private papers," he said, "so I have nothing to
+lock up.  Everything can stand as it is.  A woman named Robins
+comes in the mornings to clean up and light the fire;
+otherwise you must shift for yourself.  Nobody will disturb
+you.  Quiet, dead quiet, is about the one thing you can count
+on."
+
+Chilcote, half halting in the doorway, made an attempt to
+laugh.  Of the two, he was noticeably the more embarrassed.
+In Loder's well-worn, well-brushed tweed suit he felt stranded
+on his own personality, bereft for the moment of the familiar
+accessories that helped to cloak deficiencies and keep the
+wheel of conventionality comfortably rolling.  He stood
+unpleasantly conscious of himself, unable to shape his
+sensations even in thought.  He glanced at the fire, at the
+table, finally at the chair on which he had thrown his
+overcoat before entering the bedroom.  At the sight of the
+coat his gaze brightened, the aimlessness forsook him, and he
+gave an exclamation of relief.
+
+"By Jove!" he said.  "I clean forgot."
+
+"What?" Loder looked round.
+
+"The rings."  He crossed to the coat and thrust his hand into
+the pocket.  "The duplicates only arrived this afternoon.  The
+nick of time, eh?"  He spoke fast, his fingers searching
+busily.  Occupation of any kind came as a boon.
+
+Loder slowly followed him, and as the box was brought to light
+he leaned forward interestedly.
+
+"As I told you, one is the copy of an old signet-ring, the
+other a plain band--a plain gold band like a wedding-ring."
+Chilcote laughed as he placed the four rings side by side on
+his palm.  "I could think of nothing else that would be wide
+--and not ostentatious.  You know how I detest display."
+
+Loder touched the rings.  "You have good taste," he said.
+"Let's see if they serve their purpose?"  He picked them up
+and carried them to the lamp.
+
+Chilcote followed him.  "That was an ugly wound," he said, his
+curiosity reawakening as Loder extended his finger.  "How did
+you come by it?"
+
+The other smiled.  "It's a memento," he said.
+
+"Of bravery?"
+
+"No.  Quite the reverse."  He looked again at his hand, then
+glanced back at Chilcote.  "No," he repeated, with an unusual
+impulse of confidence.  "It serves to remind me that I am not
+exempt--that I have been fooled like other men."
+
+"That implies a woman?"
+
+"Yes."  Again Loder looked at the scar on his finger.  "I
+seldom recall the thing, it's so absolutely past.  But I
+rather like to remember it to-night.  I rather want you to
+know that I've been through the fire.  It's a sort of
+guarantee."
+
+Chilcote made a hasty gesture, but the other interrupted it.
+
+"Oh, I know you trust me.  But you're giving me a risky post.
+I want you to see that women are out of my line--quite out
+of it."
+
+"But, my dear chap--"
+
+Loder went on without heeding.  "This thing happened eight
+years ago at Santasalare," he said, "a little place between
+Luna and Pistoria--a mere handful of houses wedged between two
+hills.  A regular relic of old Italy crumbling away under
+flowers and sunshine, with nothing to suggest the present
+century except the occasional passing of a train round the
+base of one of the hills.  I had literally stumbled upon the
+place on a long tramp south from Switzerland, and had been
+tempted into a stay at the little inn.  The night after my
+arrival something unusual occurred.  There was an accident to
+the train at the point where it skirted the village.
+
+"There was a small excitement; all the inhabitants were
+anxious to help, and I took my share.  As a matter of fact,
+the smash was not disastrous; the passengers were hurt and
+frightened, but nobody was killed."
+
+He paused and looked at his companion, but, seeing him
+interested, went on:
+
+"Among these passengers was an English lady.  Of all concerned
+in the business, she was the least upset.  When I came upon
+her she was sitting on the shattered door of one of the
+carriages, calmly rearranging her hat.  On seeing me she
+looked up with the most charming smile imaginable.
+
+"'I have just been waiting for somebody like you,' she said.
+'My stupid maid has got herself smashed up somewhere in the
+second-class carriages, and I have nobody to help me to find
+my dog.'
+
+"Of course, that first speech ought to have enlightened me,
+but it didn't.  I only saw the smile and heard the voice; I
+knew nothing of whether they were deep or shallow.  So I found
+the maid and found the dog.  The first expressed gratitude;
+the other didn't.  I extricated him with enormous difficulty
+from the wreck of the luggage-van, and this was how he marked
+his appreciation."  He held out his hand and nodded towards
+the scar.
+
+Chilcote glanced up.  "So that's the explanation?"
+
+"Yes.  I tried to conceal the thing when I restored the dog,
+but I was bleeding abominably and I failed.  Then the whole
+business was changed.  It was I who needed seeing to, my new
+friend insisted; I who should be looked after, and not she.
+She forgot the dog in the newer interest of my wounded finger.
+The maid, who was practically unhurt, was sent on to engage
+rooms at the little inn, and she and I followed slowly.
+
+"That walk impressed me.  There was an attractive mistiness of
+atmosphere in the warm night, a sensation more than attractive
+in being made much of by a woman of one's own class and
+country after five years' wandering."  He laughed with a touch
+of irony.  "But I won't take up your time with details.  You
+know the progress of an ordinary love affair.  Throw in a few
+more flowers and a little more sunshine than is usual, a man
+who is practically a hermit and a woman who knows the world by
+heart, and you have the whole thing.
+
+"She insisted on staying in Santasalare for three days in
+order to keep my finger bandaged; she ended by staying three
+weeks in the hope of smashing up my life.
+
+"On coming to the hotel she had given no name; and in our
+first explanations to each other she led me to conclude her an
+unmarried girl.  It was at the end of the three weeks that I
+learned that she was not a free agent, as I had innocently
+imagined, but possessed a husband whom she had left ill with
+malaria at Florence or Rome.
+
+"The news disconcerted me, and I took no pains to hide it.
+After that the end came abruptly.  In her eyes I had become a
+fool with middle-class principles; in my eyes--But there is no
+need for that.  She left Santasalare the same night in a great
+confusion of trunks and hat-boxes; and next morning I strapped
+on my knapsack and turned my face to the south."
+
+"And women don't count ever after?" Chilcote smiled, beguiled
+out of himself.
+
+Loder laughed.  "That's what I've been trying to convey.  Once
+bitten, twice shy!"  He laughed again and slipped the two
+rings over his finger with an air of finality.
+
+"Now, shall I start?  This is the latch-key?"  He drew a key
+from the pocket of Chilcote's evening-clothes.  "When I get to
+Grosvenor Square I am to find your house, go straight in,
+mount the stairs, and there on my right hand will be the door
+of your--I mean my own--private rooms.  I think I've got it
+all by heart.  I feel inspired; I feel that I can't go wrong."
+He handed the two remaining rings to Chilcote and picked up
+the overcoat.
+
+"I'll stick on till I get a wire--," he said.  "Then I'll come
+back and we'll reverse again."  He slipped on the coat and
+moved back towards the table.  Now that the decisive moment
+had come, it embarrassed him.
+
+Scarcely knowing how to bring it to an end, he held out his
+hand.
+
+Chilcote took it, paling a little.  "'Twill be all right!" he
+said, with a sudden return of nervousness.  "'Twill be all
+right!  And I've made it plain about--about the remuneration?
+A hundred a week--besides all expenses."
+
+Loder smiled again.  "My pay?  Oh yes, you've made it clear as
+day.  Shall we say good-night now?"
+
+"Yes.  Good-night."
+
+There was a strange, distant note in Chilcote's voice, but the
+other did not pretend to hear it.  He pressed the hand he was
+holding, though the cold dampness of it repelled him.
+
+"Good-night," he said again.
+
+"Good-night."
+
+They stood for a moment, awkwardly looking at each other, then
+Loder quietly disengaged his hand, crossed the room, and
+passed through the door.
+
+Chilcote, left standing alone in the middle of the room,
+listened while the last sound of the other's footsteps was
+audible on the uncarpeted stairs; then, with a furtive,
+hurried gesture, he caught up the green-shaded lamp and passed
+into Loder's bedroom.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+
+To all men come portentous moments, difficult moments,
+triumphant moments.  Loder had had his examples of all three,
+but no moment in his career ever equalled in strangeness of
+sensation that in which, dressed in another man's clothes, he
+fitted the latchkey for the first time into the door of the
+other man's house.
+
+The act was quietly done.  The key fitted the lock smoothly
+and his fingers turned it without hesitation, though his
+heart, usually extremely steady, beat sharply for a second.
+The hall loomed massive and sombre despite the modernity of
+electric lights.  It was darkly and expensively decorated in
+black and brown; a frieze of wrought bronze, representing
+peacocks with outspread tails, ornamented the walls; the
+banisters were of heavy iron-work, and the somewhat formidable
+fireplace was of the same dark metal.
+
+Loder looked about him, then advanced, his heart again beating
+quickly as his hand touched the cold banister and he began his
+ascent of the stairs.  But at each step his confidence
+strengthened, his feet became more firm; until, at the head of
+the stairs, as if to disprove his assurance, his pulses played
+him false once more, this time to a more serious tune.  From
+the farther end of a well-lighted corridor a maid was coming
+straight in his direction.
+
+For one short second all things seemed to whiz about him; the
+certainty of detection overpowered his mind.  The indisputable
+knowledge that he was John Loder and no other, despite all
+armor of effrontery and dress, so dominated him that all other
+considerations shrank before it.  It wanted but one word, one
+simple word of denunciation, and the whole scheme was
+shattered.  In the dismay of the moment, he almost wished that
+the word might be spoken and the suspense ended.
+
+But the maid came on in silence, and so incredible was the
+silence that Loder moved onward, too.  He came within a yard
+of her, and still she did not speak; then, as he passed her,
+she drew back respectfully against the wall.
+
+The strain, so astonishingly short, had been immense, but with
+its slackening came a strong reaction.  The expected humiliation
+seethed suddenly to a desire to dare fate.   Pausing quickly,
+he turned and called the woman back.
+
+The spot where he had halted was vividly bright, the ceiling
+light being directly above his head; and as she came towards
+him he raised his face deliberately and-waited.
+
+She looked at him without surprise or interest.  "Yes, sir?"
+she said.
+
+"Is your mistress in?" he asked.  He could think of no other
+question, but it served his purpose as a test of his voice.
+
+Still the woman showed no surprise.  "She's not in sir," she
+answered.  "But she's expected in half an hour."
+
+"In half an hour?  All right!  That's all I wanted."  With a
+movement of decision Loder walked back to the stair-head,
+turned to the right, and opened the door of Chilcote's rooms.
+
+The door opened on a short, wide passage; on one side stood
+the study, on the other the bed, bath, and dressing-rooms.
+With a blind sense of knowledge and unfamiliarity, bred of
+much description on Chilcote's part, he put his hand on the
+study door and, still exalted by the omen of his first
+success, turned the handle.
+
+Inside the room there was firelight and lamplight and a
+studious air of peace.  The realization of this and a slow
+incredulity at Chilcote's voluntary renunciation were his
+first impressions; then his attention was needed for more
+imminent things.
+
+As he entered, the new secretary was returning a volume to its
+place on the book-shelves.  At sight of him, he pushed it
+hastily into position and turned round.
+
+"I was making a few notes on the political position of
+Khorasan," he said, glancing with slight apprehensiveness at
+the other's face.  He was a small, shy man, with few social
+attainments but an extraordinary amount of learning--the
+antithesis of the alert Blessington, whom he had replaced.
+
+Loder bore his scrutiny without flinching.  Indeed, it struck
+him suddenly that there was a fund of interest, almost of
+excitement, in the encountering of each new pair of eyes.  At
+the thought he moved forward to the desk.
+
+"Thank you, Greening," he said.  "A very useful bit of work."
+
+The secretary glanced up, slightly puzzled.  His endurance had
+been severely taxed in the fourteen days that he had filled
+his new post.
+
+"I'm glad you think so, sir," he said, hesitatingly.  "You
+rather pooh-poohed the matter this morning, if you remember."
+
+Loder was taking off his coat, but stopped in the operation.
+
+"This morning?" he said.  "Oh, did I?  Did I?"  Then, struck
+by the opportunity the words gave him, he turned towards the
+secretary.  "You've got to get used to me, Greening," he said.
+"You haven't quite grasped me yet, I can see.  I'm a man of
+moods, you know.  Up to the present you've seen my slack side,
+my jarred side, but I have quite another when I care to show
+it.  I'm a sort of Jekyll-and-Hyde affair."  Again he laughed,
+and Greening echoed the sound diffidently.  Chilcote had
+evidently discouraged familiarity.
+
+Loder eyed him with abrupt understanding.  He recognized the
+loneliness in the anxious, conciliatory manner.
+
+"You're tired," he said, kindly.  "Go to bed.  I've got some
+thinking to do.  Good-night."  He held out his hand.
+
+Greening took it, still half distrustful of this fresh side to
+so complex a man.
+
+"Good-night, sir," he said.  "To-morrow, if you approve, I
+shall go on with my notes.  I hope you will have a restful
+night."
+
+For a second Loder's eyebrows went up, but he recovered
+himself instantly.
+
+"Ah, thanks, Greening," he said.  "Thanks.  I think your hope
+will be fulfilled."
+
+He watched the little secretary move softly and apologetically
+to the door; then he walked to the fire, and, resting his
+elbows on the mantel-piece, he took his face in his hands.
+
+For a space he stood absolutely quiet, then his hands dropped
+to his sides and he turned slowly round.  In that short space
+he had balanced things and found his bearings.  The slight
+nervousness shown in his brusque sentences and overconfident
+manner faded out, and he faced facts steadily.
+
+With the return of his calmness he took a long survey of the
+room.  His glance brightened appreciatively as it travelled
+from the walls lined with well-bound books to the lamps
+modulated to the proper light; from the lamps to the desk
+fitted with every requirement.  Nothing was lacking.  All he
+had once possessed, all he had since dreamed of, was here, but
+on a greater scale.  To enjoy the luxuries of life a man must
+go long without them.  Loder had lived severely--so severely
+that until three weeks ago he had believed bimself exempt from
+the temptations of humanity.  Then the voice of the world had
+spoken, and within him another voice had answered, with a tone
+so clamorous and insistent that it had outcried his surprised
+and incredulous wonder at its existence and its claims.  That
+had been the voice of suppressed ambition; and now as he stood
+in the new atmosphere a newer voice lifted itself.  The joy of
+material things rose suddenly, overbalancing the last remnant
+of the philosophy he had reared.  He saw all things in a fresh
+light--the soft carpets, the soft lights, the numberless
+pleasant, unnecessary things that color the passing landscape
+and oil the wheels of life.  This was power--power made
+manifest.  The choice bindings of one's books, the quiet
+harmony of one's surroundings, the gratifying deference of
+one's dependants--these were the visible, the outward signs,
+the things he had forgotten.
+
+Crossing the room slowly, he lifted and looked at the
+different papers on the desk.  They had a substantial feeling,
+an importance, an air of value.  They were like the solemn
+keys to so many vexed problems.  Beside the papers were a heap
+of letters neatly arranged and as yet unopened.  He turned
+them over one by one.  They were all thick, and interesting to
+look at.  He smiled as he recalled his own scanty mail:
+envelopes long and bulky or narrow and thin--unwelcome
+manuscripts or very welcome checks.  Having sorted the letters,
+he hesitated.  It was his task to open them, but he had never
+in his life opened an envelope addressed to another man.
+
+He stood uncertain, weighing them in his hand.
+
+Then all at once a look of attention and surprise crossed his
+face, and he raised his head.  Some one had unmistakably
+paused outside the door which Greening had left ajar.
+
+There was a moment of apparent doubt, then a stir of skirts, a
+quick, uncertain knock, and the intruder entered.
+
+For a couple of seconds she stood in the doorway; then, as
+Loder made no effort to speak, she moved into the room.  She
+had apparently but just returned from some entertainment, for,
+though she had drawn off her long gloves, she was still
+wearing an evening cloak of lace and fur.
+
+That she was Chilcote's wife Loder instinctively realized the
+moment she entered the room.  But a disconcerting confusion of
+ideas was all that followed the knowledge.  He stood by the
+desk, silent and awkward, trying to fit his expectations to
+his knowledge.  Then, faced by the hopelessness of the task,
+he turned abruptly and looked at her again.
+
+She had taken off her cloak and was standing by the fire.  The
+compulsion of moving through life alone had set its seal upon
+her in a certain self-possession, a certain confidence of
+pose; yet her figure, as Loder then saw it, backgrounded by
+the dark books and gowned in pale blue, had a suggestion of
+youthfulness that seemed a contradiction.  The remembrance of
+Chilcote's epithets "cold" and "unsympathetic" came back to
+him with something like astonishment.  He felt no uncertainty,
+no dread of discovery and humiliation in her presence as he
+had felt in the maid's; yet there was something in her face
+that made him infinitely more uncomfortable.  A look he could
+find no name for--a friendliness that studiously covered
+another feeling, whether question, distrust, or actual dislike
+he could not say.  With a strange sensation of awkwardness he
+sorted Chilcote's letters, waiting for her to speak.
+
+As if divining his thought, she turned towards him.  "I'm
+afraid I rather intrude," she said.  "If you are busy--"
+
+His sense of courtesy was touched; he had begun life with a
+high opinion of women, and the words shook up an echo of the
+old sentiment.
+
+"Don't think that," he said, hastily.  "I was only looking
+through--my letters.  You mustn't rate yourself below
+letters."  He was conscious that his tone was hurried, that
+his words were a little jagged; but Eve did not appear to
+notice.  Unlike Greening, she took the new manner without
+surprise.  She had known Chilcote for six years.
+
+"I dined with the Fraides to-night," she said.  "Mr. Fraide
+sent you a message."
+
+Unconsciously Loder smiled.  There was humor in the thought of
+a message to him from the great Fraide.  To hide his amusement
+he wheeled one of the big lounge-chairs forward.
+
+"Indeed," he said.  "Won't you sit down?"
+
+They were near together now, and he saw her face more fully.
+Again he was taken aback.  Chilcote had spoken of her as
+successful and intelligent, but never as beautiful.  Yet her
+beauty was a rare and uncommon fact.  Her hair was black
+--not a glossy black, but the dusky black that is softer than
+any brown; her eyes were large and of a peculiarly pure blue;
+and her eyelashes were black, beautifully curved and of
+remarkable thickness.
+
+"Won't you sit down?" he said again, cutting short his
+thoughts with some confusion.
+
+"Thank you."  She gravely accepted the proffered chair.  But
+he saw that without any ostentation she drew her skirts aside
+as she passed him.  The action displeased him unaccountably.
+
+"Well," he said, shortly, "what had Fraide to say?"  He walked
+to the mantel-piece with his customary movement and stood
+watching her.  The instinct towards hiding his face had left
+him.  Her instant and uninterested acceptance of him almost
+nettled him; his own half-contemptuous impression of Chilcote
+came to him unpleasantly, and with it the first desire to
+assert his own individuality.  Stung by the conflicting
+emotions, he felt in Chilcote's pockets for something to
+smoke.
+
+Eve saw and interpreted the action.  "Are these your cigarettes?"
+She leaned towards a small table and took up a box made of
+lizard-skin.
+
+"Thanks."  He took the box from her, and as it passed from one
+to the other he saw her glance at his rings.  The glance was
+momentary; her lips parted to express question or surprise,
+then closed again without comment.  More than any spoken words,
+the incident showed him the gulf that separated husband and
+wife.
+
+"Well?" he said again, "what about Fraide?"
+
+At his words she sat straighter and looked at him more
+directly, as if bracing herself to a task.
+
+"Mr. Fraide is--is as interested as ever in you," she began.
+
+"Or in you?"  Loder made the interruption precisely as he felt
+Chilcote would have made it.  Then instantly he wished the
+words back.
+
+Eve's warm skin colored more deeply; for a second the
+inscrutable underlying expression that puzzled him showed in
+her eyes, then she sank back into a corner of the chair.
+
+"Why do you make such a point of sneering at my friends?" she
+asked, quietly.  "I overlook it when you are nervous."  She
+halted slightly on the word.  "But you are not nervous
+tonight."
+
+Loder, to his great humiliation, reddened.  Except for an
+occasional outburst on the part of Mrs. Robins, his charwoman,
+he had not merited a woman's displeasure for years.
+
+"The sneer was unintentional," he said.
+
+For the first time Eve showed a personal interest.  She looked
+at him in a puzzled way.  "If your apology was meant," she
+said, hesitatingly, "I should be glad to accept it."
+
+Loder, uncertain of how to take the words, moved back to the
+desk.  He carried an unlighted cigarette between his fingers.
+
+There was an interval in which neither spoke.  Then, at last,
+conscious of its awkwardness, Eve rose.  With one hand on the
+back of her chair, she looked at him.
+
+"Mr. Fraide thinks it's such a pity that"--she stopped to
+choose her words--"that you should lose hold on things--lose
+interest in things, as you are doing.  He has been thinking a
+good deal about you in the last three weeks--ever since the
+day of your--your illness in the House; and it seems to him,"
+--again she broke off, watching Loder's averted head--"it
+seems to him that if you made one real effort now, even now,
+to shake off your restlessness, that your--your health might
+improve.  He thinks that the present crisis would be"--she
+hesitated--" would give you a tremendous opportunity.   Your
+trade interests, bound up as they are with Persia, would
+give any opinion you might hold a double weight."  Almost
+unconsciously a touch of warmth crept into her words.
+
+"Mr. Fraide talked very seriously about the beginning of your
+career.  He said that if only the spirit of your first days
+could come back--"  Her tone grew quicker, as though she
+feared ridicule in Loder's silence.  "He asked me to use my
+influence.  I know that I have little--none, perhaps--but I
+couldn't tell him that, and so--so I promised."
+
+"And have kept the promise?" Loder spoke at random.  Her
+manner and her words had both affected him.  There was a
+sensation of unreality in his brain.
+
+"Yes," she answered.  "I always want to do--what I can."
+
+As she spoke a sudden realization of the effort she was making
+struck upon him, and with it his scorn of Chilcote rose in
+renewed force.
+
+"My intention--" he began, turning to her.  Then the futility
+of any declaration silenced him.  "I shall think over what you
+say," he added, after a minute's wait.  "I suppose I can't say
+more than that."
+
+Their eyes met and she smiled a little.
+
+"I don't believe I expected as much," she said.  "I think I'll
+go now.  You have been wonderfully patient."  Again she smiled
+slightly, at the same time extending her hand.  The gesture
+was quite friendly, but in Loder's eyes it held relief as well
+as friendliness; and when their hands met he noticed that her
+fingers barely brushed his.
+
+He picked up her cloak and carried it across the room.  As he
+held the door open, he laid it quietly across her arm.
+
+"I'll think over what you've said," he repeated.
+
+Again she glanced at him as if suspecting sarcasm then, partly
+reassured, she paused.  "You will always despise your
+opportunities, and I suppose I shall always envy them," she
+said.  "That's the way with men and women.  Good-night!"  With
+another faint smile she passed out into the corridor.
+
+Loder waited until he heard the outer door close, then he
+crossed the room thoughtfully and dropped into the chair that
+she had vacated.  He sat for a time looking at the hand her
+fingers had touched; then he lifted his head with a
+characteristic movement.
+
+"By Jove!" he said, aloud, "how cordially she detests tests
+him!"
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+
+Loder slept soundly and dreamlessly in Chilcote's canopied
+bed.  To him the big room with its severe magnificence
+suggested nothing of the gloom and solitude that it held in
+its owner's eyes.  The ponderous furniture, the high ceiling,
+the heavy curtains, unchanged since the days of Chilcote's
+grandfather, all hinted at a far-reaching ownership that
+stirred him.  The ownership was mythical in his regard, and
+the possessions a mirage, but they filled the day.  And,
+surely, sufficient for the day--
+
+That was his frame of mind as he opened his eyes on the
+following morning, and lay appreciative of his comfort, of the
+surrounding space, even of the light that filtered through the
+curtain chinks, suggestive of a world recreated.  With day,
+all things seem possible to a healthy man.  He stretched his
+arms luxuriously, delighting in the glossy smoothness of the
+sheets.
+
+What was it Chilcote had said?  Better live for a day than
+exist for a lifetime!  That was true; and life had begun.  At
+thirty-six he was to know it for the first time.
+
+He smiled, but without irony.  Man is at his best at
+thirty-six, he mused.  He has retained his enthusiasms and
+shed his exuberances; he has learned what to pick up and what
+to pass by; he no longer imagines that to drain a cup one must
+taste the dregs.  He closed his eyes and stretched again, not
+his arms only, but his whole body.  The pleasure of his mental
+state insisted on a physical expression.  Then, sitting up in
+bed, he pressed the electric bell.
+
+Chilcote's new valet responded.
+
+"Pull those curtains, Renwick!" he said.  "What's the time?"
+He had passed the ordeal of Renwick's eyes the night before.
+
+The man was slow, even a little stupid.  He drew back the
+curtains carefully, then looked at the small clock on the
+dressing-table.  "Eight o'clock, sir.  I didn't expect the
+bell so early, sir."
+
+Loder felt reproved, and a pause followed.
+
+"May I bring your cup of tea, sir?"
+
+"No.  Not just yet.  I'll have a bath first."
+
+Renwick showed ponderous uncertainty.  "Warm, sir?" he
+hazarded.
+
+"No.  Cold."
+
+Still perplexed, the man left the room.
+
+Loder smiled to himself.  The chances of discovery in that
+quarter were not large.  He was inclined to think that
+Chilcote had even overstepped necessity in the matter of his
+valet's dullness.
+
+He breakfasted alone, following Chilcote's habit, and after
+breakfast found his way to the study.
+
+As he entered, Greening rose with the same conciliatory haste
+that he had shown the night before.
+
+Loder nodded to him.  "Early at work?" he said, pleasantly.
+
+The little man showed instant, almost ridiculous relief.
+"Good-morning, sir," he said; "you too are early.  I rather
+feared your nerves troubled you after I left last night, for I
+found your letters still unopened this morning.  But I am glad
+to see you look so well."
+
+Loder promptly turned his back to the light.  "Oh, last
+night's letters!" he said.  "To tell you the truth, Greening,
+my wife"--his hesitation was very slight--"my wife looked me
+up after you left, and we gossiped.  I clean forgot the post."
+He smiled in an explanatory way as he moved to the desk and
+picked up the letters.
+
+With Greening's eyes upon him, there was no time for scruples.
+With very creditable coolness he began opening the envelopes
+one by one.  The letters were unimportant, and he passed them
+one after another to the secretary, experiencing a slight
+thrill of authority as each left his hand.  Again the fact
+that power is visible in little things came to his mind.
+
+"Give me my engagement-book, Greening," he said, when the
+letters had been disposed of.
+
+The book that Greening handed him was neat in shape and bound,
+like Chilcote's cigarette-case, in lizard-skin.
+
+As Loder took it, the gold monogram "J.C." winked at him in
+the bright morning light.  The incident moved his sense of
+humor.  He and the book were cooperators in the fraud, it
+seemed.  He felt an inclination to wink back.  Nevertheless,
+he opened it with proper gravity and skimmed the pages.
+
+The page devoted to the day was almost full.  On every other
+line were jottings in Chilcote's irregular hand, and twice
+among the entries appeared a prominent cross in blue
+pencilling.  Loder's interest quickened as his eye caught the
+mark.  It had been agreed between them that only engagements
+essential to Chilcote's public life need be carried through
+during his absence, and these, to save confusion, were to be
+crossed in blue pencil.  The rest, for the most part social
+claims, were to be left to circumstance and Loder's
+inclination, Chilcote's erratic memory always accounting for
+the breaking of trivial promises.
+
+But Loder in his new energy was anxious for obligations; the
+desire for fresh and greater tests grew with indulgence.  He
+scanned the two lines with eagerness.  The first was an
+interview with Cresham, one of Chilcote's supporters in Wark;
+the other an engagement to lunch with Fraide.  At the idea of
+the former his interest quickened, but at thought of the
+latter it quailed momentarily.  Had the entry been a royal
+command it would have affected him infinitely less.  For a
+space his assurance faltered; then, by coincidence, the
+recollection of Eve and Eve's words of last night came back to
+him, and his mind was filled with a new sensation.
+
+Because of Chilcote, he was despised by Chilcote's wife!
+There was no denying that in all the pleasant excitement of
+the adventure that knowledge had rankled.  It came to him now
+linked with remembrance of the slight, reluctant touch of her
+fingers, the faintly evasive dislike underlying her glance.
+It was a trivial thing, but it touched his pride as a man.
+That was how he put it to himself.  It wasn't that he valued
+this woman's opinion--any woman's opinion; it was merely that
+it touched his pride.  He turned again to the window and gazed
+out, the engagement book still between his hands.  What if he
+compelled her respect?  What if by his own personality cloaked
+under Chilcote's identity he forced her to admit his
+capability?  It was a matter of pride, after all--scarcely
+even of pride; self-respect was a better word.
+
+Satisfied by his own reasoning, he turned back into the room.
+
+"See to those letters, Greening," he said.  "And for the rest
+of the morning's work you might go on with your Khorasan
+notes.  I believe we'll all want every inch of knowledge we
+can get in that quarter before we're much older.  I'll see you
+again later."  With a reassuring nod he crossed the room and
+passed through the door.
+
+He lunched with Fraide at his club, and afterwards walked with
+him to Westminster.  The walk and lunch were both memorable.
+In that hour he learned many things that had been sealed to
+him before.  He tasted his first draught of real elation, his
+first drop of real discomfiture.  He saw for the first time
+how a great man may condescend--how unostentatiously, how
+fully, how delightfully.  He felt what tact and kindness
+perfectly combined may accomplish, and he burned inwardly with
+a sense of duplicity that crushed and elated him alternately.
+He was John Loder, friendless, penniless, with no present and
+no future, yet he walked down Whitehall in the full light of
+day with one of the greatest statesmen England has known.
+
+Some strangers were being shown over the Terrace when he and
+Fraide reached the House, and, noticing the open door, the old
+man paused.
+
+"I never refuse fresh air," he said.  "Shall we take  another
+breath of it before settling down?"  He took
+Loder's arm and drew him forward.  As they passed through the
+door-way the pressure of his fingers tightened.  "I shall
+reckon to-day among my pleasantest memories, Chilcote," he
+said, gravely.  "I can't explain the feeling, but I seem to
+have touched Eve's husband--the real you, more closely this
+morning than I ever did before.  It has been a genuine
+happiness."  He looked up with the eyes that, through all his
+years of action and responsibility, had remained so bright.
+
+But Loder paled suddenly, and his glance turned to the
+river-wide, mysterious, secret.  Unconsciously Fraide had
+stripped the illusion.  It was not John Loder who walked here;
+it was Chilcote--Chilcote with his position, his constituency
+--his wife.  He half extricated his arm, but Fraide held it.
+
+"No," he said.  "Don't draw away from me.  You have always
+been too ready to do that.  It is not often I have a pleasant
+truth to tell.  I won't be deprived of the enjoyment."
+
+"Can the truth ever be pleasant, sir?"  Involuntarily Loder
+echoed Chilcote.
+
+Fraide looked up.  He was half a head shorter than his
+companion, though his dignity concealed the fact.  "Chilcote,"
+he said, seriously, "give up cynicism!  It is the trade-mark
+of failure, and I do not like it in my friends."
+
+Loder said nothing.  The quiet insight of the reproof, its
+mitigating kindness, touched him sharply.  In that moment he
+saw the rails down which he had sent his little car of
+existence spinning, and the sight daunted him.  The track was
+steeper, the gauge narrower, than he had guessed; there were
+curves and sidings upon which he had not reckoned.  He turned
+his head and met Fraide's glance.
+
+"Don't count too much on me, sir," he said, slowly.  "I might
+disappoint you again."  His voice broke off on the last word,
+for the sound of other voices and of laughter came to them
+across the Terrace as a group of two women and three men
+passed through the open door.  At a glance he realized that
+the slighter of the two women was Eve.
+
+Seeing them, she disengaged herself from her party and came
+quickly forward.  He saw her cheeks flush and her eyes
+brighten pleasantly as they rested on his companion; but he
+noticed also that after her first cursory glance she avoided
+his own direction.
+
+As she came towards them, Fraide drew away his hand in
+readiness to greet her.
+
+"Here comes my godchild!" he said.  "I often wish, Chilcote,
+that I could do away with the prefix."  He added the last
+words in an undertone as he reached them; then he responded
+warmly to her smile.
+
+"What!" he said.  "Turning the Terrace into the Garden of Eden
+in January!  We cannot allow this."
+
+Eve laughed.  "Blame Lady Sarah!" she said.  "We met at lunch,
+and she carried me off.  Needless to say I hadn't to ask
+where."
+
+They both laughed, and Loder joined, a little uncertainly.  He
+had yet to learn that the devotion of Fraide and his wife was
+a long-standing jest in their particular set.
+
+At the sound of his tardy laugh Eve turned to him.  "I hope I
+didn't rob you of all sleep last night," she said.  "I caught
+him in his den," she explained, turning to Fraide, "and
+invaded it most courageously.  I believe we talked till two."
+
+Again Loder noticed bow quickly she looked from him to Fraide.
+The knowledge roused his self-assertion.
+
+"I had an excellent night," he said.  "Do I look as if I
+hadn't slept?"
+
+Somewhat slowly and reluctantly Eve looked back.  "No," she
+said, truthfully, and with a faint surprise that to Loder
+seemed the first genuine emotion she had shown regarding him.
+"No, I don't think I ever saw you look so well."  She was
+quite unconscious and very charming as she made the admission.
+It struck Loder that her coloring of hair and eyes gained by
+daylight--were brightened and vivified by their setting of
+sombre river and sombre stone.
+
+Fraide smiled at her affectionately; then looked at Loder.
+"Chilcote has got anew lease of nerves, Eve," he said,
+quietly.  "And I--believe--I have got a new henchman.  But I
+see my wife beckoning to me.  I must have a word with her
+before she flits away.  May I be excused?"  He made a
+courteous gesture of apology; then smiled at Eve.
+
+She looked after him as he moved away.  "I sometimes wonder
+what I should do if anything were to happen to the Fraides,"
+she said, a little wistfully.  Then almost at once she laughed,
+as if regretting her impulsiveness.  "You heard what he said,"
+she went on, in a different voice.  "Am I really to congratulate
+you?"
+
+The change of tone stung Loder unaccountably.  "Will you
+always disbelieve in me?" he asked.
+
+Without answering, she walked slowly across the deserted
+Terrace and, pausing by the parapet, laid her hand on the
+stonework.  Still in silence she looked out across the river.
+
+Loder had followed closely.  Again her aloofness seemed a
+challenge.  "Will you always disbelieve in me?" he repeated.
+
+At last she looked up at him, slowly.
+
+"Have you ever given me cause to believe!" she asked, in a
+quiet voice.
+
+To this truth he found no answer, though the subdued
+incredulity nettled him afresh.
+
+Prompted to a further effort, he spoke again.  "Patience is
+necessary with every person and every circumstance," he said.
+"We've all got to wait and see."
+
+She did not lower her gaze as he spoke; and there seemed to
+him something disconcerting in the clear, candid blue of her
+eyes.  With a sudden dread of her next words, he moved forward
+and laid his hand beside hers on the parapet.
+
+"Patience is needed for every one," he repeated, quickly.
+"Sometimes a man is like a bit of wreckage; he drifts till
+some force stronger than himself gets in his way and stops
+him."  He looked again at her face.  He scarcely knew what he
+was saying; he only felt that he was a man in an egregiously
+false position, trying stupidly to justify himself.  "Don't
+you believe that flotsam can sometimes be washed ashore?" he
+asked.
+
+High above them Big Ben chimed the hour.
+
+Eve raised her head.  It almost seemed to him that he could
+see her answer trembling on her lips; then the voice of Lady
+Sarah Fraide came cheerfully from behind them.
+
+
+"Eve!" she called.  "Eve!  We must fly.  It's absolutely three
+o'clock!"
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+In the days that followed Fraide's marked adoption of him
+Loder behaved with a discretion that spoke well for his
+qualities.  Many a man placed in the same responsible, and yet
+strangely irresponsible, position might have been excused if,
+for the time at least, he gave himself a loose rein.  But
+Loder kept free of the temptation.
+
+Like all other experiments, his showed unlooked-for features
+when put to a working test.  Its expected difficulties
+smoothed themselves away, while others, scarcely anticipated,
+came into prominence.  Most notable of all, the physical
+likeness between himself and Chilcote, the bedrock of the
+whole scheme, which had been counted upon to offer most
+danger, worked without a hitch.  He stood literally amazed
+before the sweeping credulity that met him on every hand.  Men
+who had known Chilcote from his youth, servants who had been
+in his employment for years, joined issue in the unquestioning
+acceptance.  At times the ease of the deception bewildered
+him; there were moments when he realized that, should
+circumstances force him to a declaration of the truth, he
+would not be believed.  Human nature prefers its own eyesight
+to the testimony of any man.
+
+But in face of this astonishing success he steered a steady
+course.  In the first exhilaration of Fraide's favor, in the
+first egotistical wish to break down Eve's scepticism, he
+might possibly have plunged into the vortex of action, let it
+be in what direction it might; but fortunately for himself,
+for Chilcote, and for their scheme, he was liable to strenuous
+second thoughts--those wise and necessary curbs that go
+further to the steadying of the universe than the universe
+guesses.  Sitting in the quiet of the House, on the same day
+that he had spoken with Eve on the Terrace, he had weighed
+possibilities slowly and cautiously.  Impressed to the full by
+the atmosphere of the place that in his eyes could never lack
+character, however dull its momentary business, however prosy
+the voice that filled it, he had sifted impulse from
+expedience, as only a man who has lived within himself can
+sift and distinguish.  And at the close of that first day his
+programme bad been formed.  There must be no rush, no headlong
+plunge, he had decided; things must work round.  It was his
+first expedition into the new country, and it lay with fate to
+say whether it would be his last.
+
+He had been leaning back in his seat, his eyes on the
+ministers opposite, his arms folded in imitation of Chilcote's
+most natural attitude, when this final speculation had come to
+him; and as it came his lips had tightened for a moment and
+his face become hard and cold.  It is an unpleasant thing when
+a man first unconsciously reckons on the weakness of another,
+and the look that expresses the idea is not good to see.  He
+had stirred uneasily; then his lips had closed again.  He was
+tenacious by nature, and by nature intolerant of weakness.  At
+the first suggestion of reckoning upon Chilcote's lapses, his
+mind had drawn back in disgust; but as the thought came again
+the disgust had lessened.
+
+In a week--two weeks, perhaps--Chilcote would reclaim his
+place.  Then would begin the routine of the affair.  Chilcote,
+fresh from indulgence and freedom, would find his obligations
+a thousand times more irksome than before; he would struggle
+for a time; then--
+
+A shadowy smile had touched Loder's lips as the idea formed
+itself.
+
+Then would come the inevitable recall; then in earnest he
+might venture to put his hand to the plough.  He never
+indulged in day-dreams, but something in the nature of a
+vision had flashed over his mind in that instant.  He had seen
+himself standing in that same building, seen the rows of faces
+first bored, then hesitatingly transformed under his personal
+domination, under the one great power he knew himself to
+possess--the power of eloquence.  The strength of the
+suggestion had been almost painful.  Men who have attained
+self-repression are occasionally open to a perilous onrush of
+feeling.  Believing that they know themselves, they walk
+boldly forward towards the high-road and the pitfall alike.
+
+These had been Loder's disconnected ideas and speculations on
+the first day of his new life.  At four o'clock on the ninth
+day he was pacing with quiet confidence up and down Chilcote's
+study, his mind pleasantly busy and his cigar comfortably
+alight, when he paused in, his walk and frowned, interrupted
+by the entrance of a servant.
+
+The man came softly into the room, drew a small table towards
+the fire, and proceeded to lay an extremely fine and
+unserviceable-looking cloth.
+
+Loder watched him in silence.  He had grown to find silence a
+very useful commodity.  To wait and let things develop was the
+attitude he oftenest assumed.  But on this occasion he was
+perplexed.  He had not rung for tea, and in any case a cup on
+a salver satisfied his wants.  He looked critically at the
+fragile cloth.
+
+Presently the servant departed, and solemnly reentered
+carrying a silver tray, with cups, a teapot, and cakes.
+Having adjusted them to his satisfaction, he turned to Loder.
+
+"Mrs. Chilcote will be with you in five minutes, sir," he
+said.
+
+He waited for some response, but Loder gave none.  Again he
+had found the advantages of silence, but this time it was
+silence of a compulsory kind.  He had nothing to say.
+
+The man, finding him irresponsive, retired; and, left to
+himself, Loder stared at the array of feminine trifles; then,
+turning abruptly, he moved to the centre of the room.
+
+Since the day they had talked on the Terrace, he had only seen
+Eve thrice, and always in the presence e others.  Since the
+night of his first coming, she has not invaded his domain, and
+he wondered what this new departure might mean.
+
+His thought of her had been less vivid in the last few days;
+for, though still using steady discretion, he had been drawn
+gradually nearer the fascinating whirlpool of new interests
+and new work.  Shut his eyes as he might, there was no denying
+that this moment, so personally vital to him, was politically
+vital to the whole country; and that by a curious coincidence
+Chilcote's position well-nigh forced him to take an active
+interest in the situation.  Again and again the suggestion had
+arisen that--should the smouldering fire in Persia break into
+a flame, Chilcote's commercial interests would facilitate,
+would practically compel, his standing in in the campaign
+against the government.
+
+The little incident of the tea-table, recalling the social
+side of his obligations, had aroused the realization of
+greater things.  As he stood meditatively in the middle of the
+room he saw suddenly how absorbed he had become in these
+greater things.  How, in the swing of congenial interests, he
+had been borne insensibly forward--his capacities expanding,
+his intelligence asserting itself.  He had so undeniably found
+his sphere that the idea of usurpation had receded gently as
+by natural laws, until his own personality had begun to color
+the day's work.
+
+As this knowledge came, he wondered quickly if it held a
+solution of the present little comedy; if Eve had seen what
+others, he knew, had observed--that Chilcote was showing a
+grasp of things that he had not exhibited for years.  Then, as
+a sound of skirts came softly down the corridor, he squared
+his shoulders with his habitual abrupt gesture and threw his
+cigar into the fire.
+
+Eve entered the room much as she had done on her former visit,
+but with one difference.  In passing Loder she quietly held
+out her hand.
+
+He took it as quietly.  "Why am I so honored?" he said.
+
+She laughed a little and looked across at the fire.  "How like
+a man!  You always want to begin with reasons.  Let's have tea
+first and explanations after."  She moved forward towards the
+table, and he followed.  As he did so, it struck him that her
+dress seemed in peculiar harmony with the day and the room,
+though beyond that he could not follow its details.  As she
+paused beside the table he drew forward a chair with a faint
+touch of awkwardness.
+
+She thanked him and sat down.
+
+He watched her in silence as she poured out the tea, and the
+thought crossed his mind that it was incredibly long since he
+had seen a woman preside over a meal.  The deftness of her
+fingers filled him with an unfamiliar, half-inquisitive
+wonder.  So interesting was the sensation that, when she held
+his cup towards him, he didn't immediately see it.
+
+"Don't you want any?" She smiled a little.
+
+He started, embarrassed by his own tardiness.  "I'm afraid I'm
+dull," he said.  "I've been so--"
+
+"So keen a worker in the last week?"
+
+For a moment he felt relieved.  Then, as a fresh silence fell,
+his sense of awkwardness returned.  He sipped his tea and ate
+a biscuit.  He found himself wishing, for almost the first
+time, for some of the small society talk that came so
+pleasantly to other men.  He felt that the position was
+ridiculous.  He glanced at Eve's averted head, and laid his
+empty cup upon the table.
+
+Almost at once she turned, and their eyes met.
+
+"John," she said, "do you guess at all why I wanted to have
+tea with you?"
+
+He looked down at her.  "No," he said, honestly and without
+embellishment.
+
+The curtness of the answer might have displeased another
+woman.  Eve seemed to take no offence.
+
+"I had a talk with the Fraides to-day," she said "A long talk.
+Mr. Fraide said great things of you--things I wouldn't have
+believed from anybody but Mr. Fraide."  She altered her
+position and looked from Loder's face back into the fire.
+
+He took a step forward.  "What things?" he said.  He was
+almost ashamed of the sudden, inordinate satisfaction that
+welled up at her words.
+
+"Oh, I mustn't tell you!"  She laughed a little.  "But you
+have surprised him."  She paused, sipped her tea, then looked
+up again with a change of expression.
+
+"John," she said, more seriously, "there is one point that
+sticks a little.  Will this great change last?"  Her voice was
+direct and even--wonderfully direct for a woman, Loder
+thought.  It came to him with a certain force that beneath her
+remarkable charm might possibly lie a remarkable character.
+It was not a possibility that had occurred to him before, and
+it caused him to look at her a second time.  In the new light
+he saw her beauty differently, and it interested him differently.
+Heretofore he had been inclined to class women under three
+heads--idols, amusements, or encumbrances; now it crossed his
+mind that a woman might possibly fill another place--the place
+of a companion.
+
+"You are very sceptical," he said, still looking down at her.
+
+She did not return his glance.  "I think I have been made
+sceptical," she said.
+
+As she spoke the image of Chilcote shot through his mind.
+Chilcote, irritable, vicious, unstable, and a quick compassion
+for this woman so inevitably shackled to him followed it.
+
+Eve, unconscious of what was passing in his mind, went on with
+her subject.
+
+"When we were married," she said, gently, "I had such a great
+interest in things, such a great belief in life.  I had lived
+in politics, and I was marrying one of the coming men--everybody
+said you were one of the coming men--I scarcely felt there was
+anything left to ask for.  You didn't make very ardent love,"
+she smiled, "but I think I had forgotten about love.  I wanted
+nothing so much as to be like Lady Sarah--married to a great man."
+She paused, then went on more hurriedly: "For a while things went
+right; then slowly things, went wrong.  You got your--your nerves."
+
+Loder changed his position with something of abruptness.
+
+She misconstrued the action.
+
+"Please don't think I want to be disagreeable," she said,
+hastily.  "I don't.  I'm only trying to make you understand
+why--why I lost heart."
+
+"I think I know," Loder's voice broke in involuntarily.
+"Things got worse--then still worse.  You found interference
+useless.  At last you ceased to have a husband."
+
+"Until a week ago." She glanced up quickly.  Absorbed in her
+own feelings, she had seen nothing extraordinary in his words.
+
+But at hers, Loder changed color.
+
+"It's the most incredible thing in the world," she said.
+"It's quite incredible, and yet I can't deny it.  Against all
+my reason, all my experience, all my inclination I seem to
+feel in the last week something of what I felt at first." She
+stopped with an embarrassed laugh.  "It seems that, as if by
+magic, life has been picked up where I dropped it six years
+ago."  Again she stopped and laughed.
+
+Loder was keenly uncomfortable, but he could think of nothing
+to say.
+
+"It seemed to begin that night I dined with the Fraides," she
+went on.  "Mr. Fraide talked so wisely and so kindly about
+many things.  He recalled all we had hoped for in you; and
+--and he blamed me a little."  She paused and laid her cup
+aside.  "He said that when people have made what they call
+their last effort, they should always make just one effort
+more.  He promised that if I could once persuade you to take
+an interest in your work, he would do the rest.  He said all
+that, and a thousand other kinder things--and I sat and
+listened.  But all the time I thought of nothing but their
+uselessness.  Before I left I promised to do my best
+--but my thought was still the same.  It was stronger than
+ever when I forced myself to come up here--"  She paused
+again, and glanced at Loder's averted head.  "But I came, and
+then--as if by conquering myself I had compelled a reward, you
+seemed--you somehow seemed different.  It sounds ridiculous, I
+know."  Her voice was half amused, half deprecating.  "It
+wasn't a difference in your face, though I knew directly that
+you were free from--nerves."  Again she hesitated over the
+word.  "It was a difference in yourself, in the things you
+said, more than in the way you said them."  Once more she
+paused and laughed a little.
+
+Loder's discomfort grew.
+
+"But it didn't affect me then."  She spoke more slowly.  "I
+wouldn't admit it then.  And the next day when we talked on
+the Terrace I still refused to admit it--though I felt it more
+strongly than before.  But I have watched you since that day,
+and I know there is a change.  Mr. Fraide feels the same, and
+he is never mistaken.  I know it's only nine or ten days, but
+I've hardly seen you in the same mood for nine or ten hours in
+the last three years."  She stopped, and the silence was
+expressive.  It seemed to plead for confirmation of her
+instinct.
+
+Still Loder could find no response.
+
+After waiting for a moment, she leaned forward in her chair
+and looked up at him.
+
+"John," she said, "is it going to last?  That's what I came to
+ask.  I don't want to believe till I'm sure; I don't want to
+risk a new disappointment."  Loder felt the earnestness of her
+gaze, though he avoided meeting it.
+
+"I couldn't have said this to you a week ago, but to-day I
+can.  I don't pretend to explain why--the feeling is too
+inexplicable.  I only know that I can say it now, and that I
+couldn't a week ago.  Will you understand--and answer?"
+
+Still Loder remained mute.  His position was horribly
+incongruous.  What could he say?  What dared he say?
+
+Confused by his silence, Eve rose.
+
+"If it's only a phase, don't try to hide it," she said.  "But
+if it's going to last--if by any possibility it's going to
+last--"  She hesitated and looked up.
+
+She was quite close to him.  He would have been less than man
+had he been unconscious of the subtle contact of her glance,
+the nearness of her presence--and no one had ever hinted that
+manhood was lacking in him.  It was a moment of temptation.
+His own energy, his own intentions, seemed so near; Chilcote
+and Chilcote's claims so distant and unreal.  After all, his
+life, his ambitions, his determinations, were his own.  He
+lifted his eyes and looked at her.
+
+"You want me to tell you that I will go on?" he said.
+
+Her eyes brightened; she took a step forward.  "Yes," she
+said, "I want it more than anything in the world."
+
+There was a wait.  The declaration that would satisfy her came
+to Loder's lips, but he delayed it.  The delay, was fateful.
+While he stood silent the door opened and the servant who had
+brought in the tea reappeared.
+
+He crossed the room and handed Loder a telegram.  "Any answer,
+sir?" he said.
+
+Eve moved back to her chair.  There was a flush on her cheeks
+and her eyes were still alertly bright.
+
+Loder tore the telegram open, read it, then threw it Into the
+fire.
+
+"No answer!" he said, laconically.
+
+At the brusqueness of his voice, Eve looked up.  "Disagreeable
+news?" she said, as the servant departed.
+
+He didn't look at her.  He was watching the telegram withering
+in the centre of the fire.
+
+"No," he said at last, in a strained voice.  "No.  Only news
+that I--that I had forgotten to expect."
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+
+There was a silence--an uneasy break--after Loder spoke.  The
+episode of the telegram was, to all appearances, ordinary
+enough, calling forth Eve's question and his own reply as a
+natural sequence; yet in the pause that followed it each was
+conscious of a jar, each was aware that in some subtle way the
+thread of sympathy had been dropped, though to one the cause
+was inexplicable and to the other only too plain.
+
+Loder watched the ghost of his message grow whiter and
+thinner, then dissolve into airy fragments and flutter up the
+chimney.  As the last morsel wavered out of sight, he turned
+and looked at his companion.
+
+"You almost made me commit myself," he said.  In the desire to
+hide his feelings his tone was short.
+
+Eve returned his glance with a quiet regard, but he scarcely
+saw it.  He had a stupefied sense of disaster; a feeling of
+bitter self-commiseration that for the moment outweighed all
+other considerations.  Almost at the moment of justification
+the good of life had crumbled in his fingers, the soil given
+beneath his feet, and with an absence of logic, a lack of
+justice unusual in him, he let resentment against Chilcote
+sweep suddenly over his mind.
+
+Eve, still watching him, saw the darkening of his expression,
+and with a quiet movement rose from her chair.
+
+"Lady Sarah has a theatre-party to-night, and I am dining with
+her," she said.  "It is an early dinner, so I must think about
+dressing.  I'm sorry you think I tried to draw you into
+anything.  I must have explained myself badly."  She laughed a
+little, to cover the slight discomfiture that her tone
+betrayed, and as she laughed she moved across the room towards
+the door.
+
+Loder, engrossed in the check to his own schemes, incensed at
+the suddenness of Chilcote's recall, and still more incensed
+at his own folly in not having anticipated it, was oblivious
+for the moment of both her movement and her words.  Then,
+quite abruptly, they obtruded themselves upon him, breaking
+through his egotism with something of the sharpness of pain
+following a blow.  Turning quickly from the fireplace, he
+faced the shadowy room across which she had passed, but
+simultaneously with his turning she gained the door.
+
+The knowledge that she was gone struck him with a sense of
+double loss.  "Wait!" he called, suddenly moving forward.  But
+almost at once he paused, chilled by the solitude of the room.
+
+"Eve!" he said, using her name unconsciously for the first
+time.
+
+But the corridor, as well as the room, was empty; he was too
+late.  He stood irresolute; then he laughed shortly, turned,
+and passed back towards the fireplace.
+
+The blow had fallen, the inevitable come to pass, and nothing
+remained but to take the fact with as good a grace as
+possible.  Chilcote's telegram had summoned him to Clifford's
+Inn at seven o'clock, and it was now well on towards six.  He
+pulled out his watch--Chilcote's watch he realized, with a
+touch of grim humor as he stooped to examine the dial by the
+light of the fire; then, as if the humor had verged to another
+feeling, he stood straight again and felt for the electric
+button in the wall.  His fingers touched it, and
+simultaneously the room was lighted.
+
+The abrupt alteration from shadow to light came almost as a
+shock.  The feminine arrangement of the tea-table seemed
+incongruous beside the sober books and the desk laden with
+papers--incongruous as his own presence in the place.  The
+thought was unpleasant, and he turned aside as if to avoid it;
+but at the movement his eyes fell on Chilcote's cigarette-box
+with its gleaming monogram, and the whimsical suggestion of
+his first morning rose again.  The idea that the inanimate
+objects in the room knew him for what he was--recognized the
+interloper where human eyes saw the rightful possessor--returned
+to his mind.  Through all his disgust and chagrin a smile forced
+itself to his lips, and, crossing the room for the second time,
+he passed into Chilcote's bedroom.
+
+There the massive furniture and sombre atmosphere fitted
+better with his mood than the energy and action which the
+study always suggested.  Walking directly to the great bed, he
+sat on its side and for several minutes stared straight in
+front of him, apparently seeing nothing; then at last the
+apathy passed from him, as his previous anger against Chilcote
+had passed.  He stood up slowly, drawing his long limbs
+together, and recrossed the room, passing along the corridor
+and through the door communicating with the rest of the house.
+Five minutes later he was in the open air and walking steadily
+eastward, his hat drawn forward and his overcoat buttoned up.
+
+As he traversed the streets he allowed himself no thought,
+Once, as he waited in Trafalgar Square to find a passage
+between the vehicles, the remembrance of Chilcote's voice
+coming out of the fog on their first night made itself
+prominent, but he rejected it quickly, guarding himself from
+even an involuntary glance at the place of their meeting.  The
+Strand, with its unceasing life, came to him as something
+almost unfamiliar.  Since his identification with the new life
+no business had drawn him east of Charing Cross, and his first
+sight of the narrower stream of traffic struck him as garish
+and unpleasant.  As the impression came he accelerated his
+steps, moved by the wish to make regret and retrospection
+alike impossible by a contact with actual forces.
+
+Still walking hastily, he entered Clifford's Inn, but there
+almost unconsciously his feet halted.  There was something in
+the quiet immutability of the place that sobered energy, both
+mental and physical.  A sense of changelessness--the
+changelessness of inanimate things, that rises in such solemn
+contrast to the variableness of mere human nature, which a new
+environment, a new outlook, sometimes even a new presence, has
+power to upheave and remould.  He paused; then with slower and
+steadier steps crossed the little court and mounted the
+familiar stairs of his own house.
+
+As he turned the handle of his own door some one stirred
+inside the sitting-room.  Still under the influence of the
+stones and trees that he had just left, he moved directly
+towards the sound, and, without waiting for permission,
+entered the room.  After the darkness of the passage it seemed
+well alight, for, besides the lamp with its green shade, a
+large fire burned in the grate and helped to dispel the
+shadows.
+
+As he entered the room Chilcote rose and came forward, his
+figure thrown into strong relief by the double light.  He was
+dressed in a shabby tweed suit; his face looked pale and set
+with a slightly nervous tension, but besides the look and a
+certain added restlessness of glance there was no visible
+change.  Reaching Loder, he held out his hand.
+
+"Well?" he said, quickly.
+
+The other looked at him questioningly.
+
+"Well?  Well?  How has it gone?"
+
+"The scheme?  Oh, excellently!"  Loder's manner was abrupt.
+Turning from the restless curiosity in Chilcote's eyes, he
+moved a little way across the room and began to draw off his
+coat.  Then, as if struck by the incivility of the action, he
+looked back again.  "The scheme has gone extraordinarily," he
+said.  "I could almost say absurdly.  There are some things,
+Chilcote, that fairly bowl a man over."
+
+A great relief tinged Chilcote's face.  "Good!" he exclaimed.
+"Tell me all about it."
+
+But Loder was reticent.  The moment was not propitious.  It
+was as if a hungry man had dreamed a great banquet and had
+awakened to his starvation.  He was chary of imparting his
+visions.
+
+"There's nothing to tell," he said, shortly.  "All that you'll
+want to know is here in black and white.  I don't think you'll
+find I have slipped anything; it's a clear business record."
+From an inner pocket he drew out a bulky note-book, and,
+recrossing the room, laid it open on the table.  It was a
+correct, even a minute, record of every action that had been
+accomplished in Chilcote's name.  "I don't think you'll find
+any loose ends," he said, as he turned back the pages.  "I had
+you and your position in my mind all through."  He paused and
+glanced up from the book.  "You have a position that
+absolutely insists upon attention," he added, in a different
+voice.
+
+At the new tone Chilcote looked up as well.  "No moral
+lectures!" he said, with a nervous laugh.  "I was anxious to
+know if you had pulled it off--and you have reassured me.
+That's enough.  I was in a funk this afternoon to know how
+things were going-one of those sudden, unreasonable funks.
+But now that I see you"--he cut himself short and laughed once
+more "now that I see you, I'm hanged if I don't want to--to
+prolong your engagement."
+
+Loder glanced at him, then glanced away.  He felt a quick
+shame at the eagerness that rose at the words--a surprised
+contempt at his own readiness to anticipate the man's
+weakness.  But almost as speedily as he had turned away he
+looked back again.
+
+"Tush, man!" he said, with his old, intolerant manner.
+"You're dreaming.  You've had your holiday and school's begun
+again.  You must remember you are dining with the Charringtons
+to-night.  Young Charrington's coming of age--quite a big
+business.  Come along!  I want my clothes."  He laughed, and,
+moving closer to Chilcote, slapped him on the shoulder.
+
+Chilcote started; then, suddenly becoming imbued with the
+other's manner, he echoed the laugh.
+
+"By Jove!" he said, "you're right!  You're quite right!  A man
+must keep his feet in their own groove."  Raising his hand, he
+began to fumble with his tie.
+
+But Loder kept the same position.  "You'll find the
+check-book in its usual drawer," he said. "I've made one entry
+of a hundred pounds--pay for the first week.  The rest can
+stand over until--"  He paused abruptly.
+
+Chilcote shifted his position.  "Don't talk about that.  It
+upsets me to anticipate.  I can make out a check to-morrow
+payable to John Loder."
+
+"No.  That can wait.  The name of Loder is better out of the
+book.  We can't be too careful."  Loder spoke with unusual
+impetuosity.  Already a slight, unreasonable jealousy was
+coloring his thoughts.  Already he grudged the idea of
+Chilcote with his unstable glance and restless fingers opening
+the drawers and sorting the papers that for one stupendous
+fortnight had been his without question.  Turning aside, he
+changed the subject brusquely.
+
+"Come into the bedroom," he said.  "It's half-past seven if
+it's a minute, and the Charringtons' show is at nine." Without
+waiting for a reply, he walked across the room and held the
+door open.
+
+There was no silence while they exchanged clothes.  Loder
+talked continuously, sometimes in short, curt sentences,
+sometimes with ironic touches of humor; he talked until
+Chilcote, strangely affected by contact with another
+personality after his weeks of solitude, fell under his
+influence--his excitement rising, his imagination stirring at
+the novelty of change.  At last, garbed once more in the
+clothes of his own world, he passed from the bedroom back into
+the sitting-room, and there halted, waiting for his companion.
+
+Almost directly Loder followed.  He came into the room
+quietly, and, moving at once to the table, picked up the
+note-book.
+
+"I'm not going to preach," he began, "so you needn't shut me
+up.  But I'll say just one thing--a thing that will get said.
+Try and keep your hold!  Remember your responsibilities--and
+keep your hold!"  He spoke energetically, looking earnestly
+into Chilcote's eyes.  He did not realize it, but he was
+pleading for his own career.
+
+Chilcote paled a little, as he always did in face of a
+reality.  Then he extended his hand.
+
+"My dear fellow," he said, with a touch of hauteur, "a man can
+generally be trusted to look after his own life."
+
+Extricating his hand almost immediately, he turned towards the
+door and without a word of farewell passed into the little
+hall, leaving Loder alone in the sitting-room.
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+
+On the night of Chilcote's return to his own, Loder tasted the
+lees of life poignantly for the first time.  Before their
+curious compact had been entered upon he had been, if not
+content, at least apathetic; but with action the apathy had
+been dispersed, never again to regain its old position.
+
+He realized with bitter certainty that his was no real
+home-coming.  On entering Chilcote's house he had experienced
+none of the unfamiliarity, none of the unsettled awkwardness,
+that assailed him now.  There he had almost seemed the exile
+returning after many hardships; here, in the atmosphere made
+common by years, he felt an alien.  It was illustrative of the
+man's character that sentimentalities found no place in his
+nature.  Sentiments were not lacking, though they lay out of
+sight, but sentimentalities he altogether denied.
+
+Left alone in the sitting-room after Chilcote's departure,
+his first sensation was one of physical discomfort and
+unfamiliarity.  His own clothes, with their worn looseness,
+brought no sense of friendliness such as some men find in an
+old garment.  Lounging, and the clothes that suggested
+lounging, had no appeal for him.  In his eyes the garb that
+implies responsibility was symbolic and even inspiring.
+
+And, as with clothes, so with his actual surroundings.  Each
+detail of his room was familiar, but not one had ever become
+intimately close.  He had used the place for years, but he had
+used it as he might use a hotel; and whatever of his household
+gods had come with him remained, like himself, on sufferance.
+His entrance into Chilcote's surroundings had been altogether
+different.  Unknown to himself, he had been in the position of
+a young artist who, having roughly modelled in clay, is
+brought into the studio of a sculptor.  To his outward vision
+everything is new, but his inner sight leaps to instant
+understanding.  Amid all the strangeness he recognizes the one
+essential--the workshop, the atmosphere, the home.
+
+On this first night of return Loder comprehended something of
+his position; and, comprehending, he faced the problem and
+fought with it.
+
+He had made his bargain and must pay his share.  Weighing
+this, he had looked about his room with a quiet gaze.  Then at
+last, as if finding the object really sought for, his eyes had
+come round to the mantel-piece and rested on the pipe-rack.
+The pipes stood precisely as he had left them.  He had looked
+at them for a long time, then an ironic expression that was
+almost a smile had touched his lips, and, crossing the room,
+he had taken the oldest and blackest from its place and slowly
+filled it with tobacco.
+
+With the first indrawn breath of smoke his attitude had
+unbent.  Without conscious determination, he had chosen the
+one factor capable of easing his mood.  A cigarette is for the
+trivial moments of life; a cigar for its fulfilments, its
+pleasant, comfortable retrospections; but in real distress--in
+the solving of question, the fighting of difficulty--a pipe is
+man's eternal solace,
+
+So he had passed the first night of his return to the
+actualities of life.  Next day his mind was somewhat settled
+and outward aid was not so essential; but though facts faced
+him more solidly, they were nevertheless very drab in shade.
+The necessity for work, that blessed antidote to ennui, no
+longer forced him to endeavor.  He was no longer penniless;
+but the money, he possessed brought with it no desires.  When
+a man has lived from hand to mouth for years, and suddenly
+finds himself with a hundred pounds in his pocket, the result
+is sometimes curious.  He finds with a vague sense of surprise
+that he has forgotten how to spend.  That extravagance, like
+other artificial passions, requires cultivation.
+
+This he realized even more fully on the days that followed
+the night of his first return; and with it was born a new
+bitterness.  The man who has friends and no money may find
+life difficult; but the man who has money and no friend to
+rejoice in his fortune or benefit by his generosity is aloof
+indeed.  With the leaven of incredulity that works in all
+strong natures, Loder distrusted the professional beggar
+--therefore the charity that bestows easily and promiscuously
+was denied him; and of other channels of generosity he was
+too self-contained to have learned the secret.
+
+When depression falls upon a man of usually even temperament
+it descends with a double weight.  The mercurial nature has a
+hundred counterbalancing devices to rid itself of gloom--a
+sudden lifting of spirit, a memory of other moods lived
+through, other blacknesses dispersed by time; but the man of
+level nature has none of these.  Depression, when it comes, is
+indeed depression; no phase of mind to be superseded by another
+phase, but a slackening of all the chords of life.
+
+It was through such a depression as this that he labored
+during three weeks, while no summons and no hint of
+remembrance came from Chilcote.  His position was peculiarly
+difficult.  He found no action in the present, and towards the
+future he dared not trust himself to look.  He had slipped the
+old moorings that familiarity had rendered endurable; but
+having slipped them, he had found no substitute.  Such was his
+case on the last night of the three weeks, and such his frame
+of mind as he crossed Fleet Street from Clifford's Inn to
+Middle Temple Lane.
+
+It was scarcely seven o'clock, but already the dusk was
+falling; the greater press of vehicles had ceased, and the
+light of the street lamps gleamed back from the spaces of dry
+and polished roadway, worn smooth as a mirror by wheels and
+hoofs.  Something of the solitude of night that sits so ill on
+the strenuous city street was making itself felt, though the
+throngs of people on the pathway still streamed eastward and
+westward and the taverns made a busy trade.
+
+Having crossed the roadway, Loder paused for a moment to
+survey the scene.  But humanity in the abstract made small
+appeal to him, and his glance wandered from the passers-by to
+the buildings massed like clouds against the dark sky.  As his
+gaze moved slowly from one to the other a clock near at hand
+struck seven, and an instant later the chorus was taken up by
+a dozen clamorous tongues.  Usually he scarcely heard, and
+never heeded, these innumerable chimes; but this evening their
+effect was strange.  Coming out of the darkness, they seemed
+to possess a personal note, a human declaration.  The
+impression was fantastic, but it was strong; with a species of
+revolt against life and his own personality, he turned slowly
+and moved forward in the direction of Ludgate Hill.
+
+For a space he continued his course, then, reaching Bouverie
+Street, he turned sharply to the right and made his way down
+the slight incline that leads to the Embankment.  There he
+paused and drew a long breath.  The sense of space and
+darkness soothed him.  Pulling his cap over his eyes, he
+crossed to the river and walked on in the direction of
+Westminster Bridge.
+
+As he walked the great mass, of water by his side looked dense
+and smooth as oil with its sweeping width and network of
+reflected light.  On its farther bank rose the tall buildings,
+the chimneys, the flaring lights that suggest another and an
+alien London; close at hand stretched the solid stone parapet,
+giving assurance of protection.
+
+All these things he saw with his mental eyes, but with his
+mental eyes only, for his physical gaze was fixed ahead where
+the Houses of Parliament loomed out of the dusk.  From the
+great building his eyes never wavered until the Embankment was
+traversed and Westminster Bridge reached.  Then he paused,
+resting his arms on the coping of the bridge.
+
+In the tense quietude of the darkness the place looked vast
+and inspiring.  The shadowy Terrace, the silent river, the
+rows of lighted windows, each was significant.  Slowly and
+comprehensively his glance passed from one to the other.  He
+was no sentimentalist and no dreamer; his act was simply the
+act of a man whose interests, robbed of their natural outlet,
+turn instinctively towards the forms and symbols of the work
+that is denied them.  His scrutiny was steady--even cold.  He
+was raised to no exaltation by the vastness of the building,
+nor was he chilled by any dwarfing of himself.  He looked at
+it long and thoughtfully; then, again moving slowly, he
+turned and retraced his steps.
+
+His mind was full as he walked back, still oblivious of the
+stone parapet of the Embankment, the bare trees, and the
+flaring lights of the advertisements across the water.
+Turning to the left, he regained Fleet Street and made for
+his own habitation with the quiet accuracy that some men
+exhibit in moments of absorption.
+
+He crossed Clifford's Inn with the same slow, almost listless
+step; then, as his own doorway came into view, he stopped.
+Some one was standing in its recess.
+
+For a moment he wondered if his fancy were playing him a
+trick; then his reason sprang to certainty with so fierce a
+leap that for an instant his mind recoiled.  For we more often
+stand aghast at the strength of our own feelings than before
+the enormity of our neighbor's actions.
+
+"Is that you, Chilcote?" he said, below his breath.
+
+At the sound of his voice the other wheeled round.  "Hallo!"
+he said.  "I thought you were the ghost of some old
+inhabitant.  I suppose I am very unexpected?"
+
+Loder took the hand that he extended and pressed the fingers
+unconsciously.  The sight of this man was like the finding of
+an oasis at the point where the desert is sandiest, deadliest,
+most unbearable.
+
+"Yes, you are--unexpected," he answered.
+
+Chilcote looked at him, then looked out into the court.  "I'm
+done up," he said.  "I'm right at the end of the tether."  He
+laughed as he said it, but in the dim light of the hall Loder
+thought his face looked ill and harassed despite the flush
+that the excitement of the meeting had brought to it.  Taking
+his arm, he drew him towards the stairs.
+
+"So the rope has run out, eh?" he said, in imitation of the
+other's tone.  But under the quiet of his manner his own nerves
+were throbbing with the peculiar alertness of anticipation; a
+sudden sense of mastery over life, that lifted him above
+surroundings and above persons--a sense of stature, mental and
+physical, from which he surveyed the world.  He felt as if fate,
+in the moment of utter darkness, had given him a sign.
+
+As they crossed the hall, Chilcote had drawn away and was
+already mounting the stairs.  And as Loder followed, it
+came sharply to his mind that here, in the slipshod
+freedom of a door that was always open and stairs that
+were innocent of covering, lay his companion's panion's
+real niche--unrecognized in outward avowal, but acknowledged
+by the inward, keener sense that manifests the individual.
+
+In silence they mounted the stairs, but on the first landing
+Chilcote paused and looked back, surveying Loder from the
+superior height of two steps.
+
+"I did very well at first," he said.  "I did very well--I
+almost followed your example, for a week or so.  I found
+myself on a sort of pinnacle--and I clung on.  But in the last
+ten days I've--I've rather lapsed."
+
+"Why?"  Loder avoided looking at his face; he kept his eyes
+fixed determinately on the spot where his own hand gripped the
+banister.
+
+"Why?" Chilcote repeated.  "Oh, the prehistoric tale--weakness
+stronger than strength.  I'm-I'm sorry to come down on you like
+this, but it's the social side that bowls me over.  It's the
+social side I can't stick."
+
+"The social side?  But I thought--"
+
+"Don't think.  I never think; it entails such a constant
+upsetting of principles and theories.  We did arrange for
+business only, but one can't set up barriers.  Society pushes
+itself everywhere nowadays--into business most of all.  I
+don't want you for theatre-parties or dinners.  But a big
+reception with a political flavor is different.  A man has to
+be seen at these things; he needn't say anything or do
+anything, but it's bad form if he fails to show up."
+
+Loder raised his head.  "You must explain," he said, abruptly.
+
+Chilcote started slightly at the sudden demand.
+
+"I--I suppose I'm rather irrelevant," he said, quickly.  "Fact
+is, there's a reception at the Bramfells' to-night.  You know
+Blanche Bramfell--Viscountess Bramfell, sister to Lillian
+Astrupp."  His words conveyed nothing to Loder, but he did not
+consider that.  All explanations were irksome to him and he
+invariably chafed to be done with them.
+
+"And you've got to put in an appearance--for party reasons?"
+Loder broke in.
+
+Chilcote showed relief.  "Yes.  Old Fraide makes rather a
+point of it--so does Eve."  He said the last words carelessly;
+then, as if their sound recalled something, his expression
+changed.  A touch of satirical amusement touched his lips and
+he laughed.
+
+"By-the-way, Loder," he said, "my wife was actually tolerant
+of me for nine or ten days after my return.  I thought your
+representation was to be quite impersonal?  I'm not jealous,"
+he laughed.  "I'm not jealous, I assure you; but the burned
+child shouldn't grow absentminded."
+
+At his tone and his laugh Loder's blood stirred; with a
+sudden, unexpected impulse his hand tightened on the banister,
+and, looking up, he caught sight of the face above him--his
+own face, it seemed, alight with malicious interest.  At the
+sight a strange sensation seized him; his grip on the banister
+loosened, and, pushing past Chilcote, he hurriedly mounted the
+stairs.
+
+Outside his own door the other overtook him.
+
+"Loder!" he said.  "Loder!  I meant no harm.  A man must have
+a laugh sometimes."
+
+But Loder was facing the door and did not turn round.
+
+A sudden fear shook Chilcote.  "Loder!" he exclaimed again,
+"you wouldn't desert me?  I can't go back to-night.  I can't
+go back."
+
+Still Loder remained immovable.
+
+Alarmed by his silence, Chilcote stepped closer to him.
+
+"Loder!  Loder, you won't desert me?"  He caught hastily at
+his arm.
+
+With a quick repulsion Loder shook him off; then almost as
+quickly he turned round.
+
+"What fools we all are!" he said, abruptly.  "We, only differ
+in degree.  Come in, and let us change our clothes."
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+
+The best moments of a man's life are the moments when, strong
+in himself, he feels that the world lies before him.
+Gratified ambition may be the summer, but anticipation is the
+ardent spring-time of a man's career.
+
+As Loder drove that night frown Fleet Street to Grosvenor
+Square he realized this--though scarcely with any degree of
+consciousness--for he was no accomplished self-analyst.  But
+in a wave of feeling too vigorous to be denied he recognized
+his regained foothold--the step that lifted him at once from
+the pit to the pinnacle.
+
+In that moment of realization he looked neither backward nor
+forward.  The present was all-sufficing.  Difficulties might
+loom ahead, but difficulties had but one object--the testing
+and sharpening of a man's strength.  In the first deep surge
+of egotistical feeling he almost rejoiced in Chilcote's
+weakness.  The more Chilcote tangled the threads of his life,
+the stronger must be the fingers that unravelled them.  He was
+possessed by a great impatience; the joy of action was
+stirring in his blood.
+
+Leaving the cab, he walked confidently to the door of
+Chilcote's house and inserted the latch-key.  Even in this
+small act there was a grain of individual satisfaction.  Then
+very quietly he opened the door and crossed the hall.
+
+As he entered, a footman was arranging the fire that burned in
+the big grate.  Seeing the man, he halted.
+
+"Where is your mistress?" he asked, in unconscious repetition
+of his first question in the same house.
+
+The man looked up.  "She has just finished dinner, sir.  She
+dined alone in her own room."  He glanced at Loder in the
+quick, uncertain way that was noticeable in all the servants
+of the household when they addressed their master.  Loder saw
+the look and wondered what depth of curiosity it betrayed, how
+much of insight into the domestic life that he must always be
+content to skim.  For an instant the old resentment against
+Chilcote tinged his exaltation, but he swept it angrily aside.
+Without further remark he began to mount the stairs.
+
+Gaining the landing, he did not turn as usual to the door that
+shut off Chilcote's rooms, but moved onward down the corridor
+towards Eve's private sitting-room.  He moved slowly till the
+door was reached; then he, paused and lifted his hand.  There
+was a moment's wait while his fingers rested on the handle;
+then a sensation he could not explain--a reticence, a reluctance
+to intrude upon this one precinct--caused his, fingers to relax.
+With a slightly embarrassed gesture he drew back slowly and
+retraced his steps.
+
+Once in Chilcote's bedroom, he walked to the nearest bell and
+pressed it.  Renwick responded, and at sight of him Loder's
+feelings warmed with the same sense of fitness and familiarity
+that the great bed and sombre furniture of the room had
+inspired.
+
+But the man did not come forward as he had expected.  He
+remained close to the door with a hesitation that was unusual
+in a trained servant.  It struck Loder that possibly his
+stolidity had exasperated Chilcote, and that possibly Chilcote
+had been at no pains to conceal the exasperation.  The idea
+caused him to smile involuntarily.
+
+"Come into the room, Renwick," he said.  "It's uncomfortable
+to see you standing there.  I want to know if Mrs. Chilcote
+has sent me any message about to-night."
+
+Renwick studied him furtively as he came forward.  "Yes, sir,"
+he said.  "Mrs. Chilcote's maid said that the carriage was
+ordered for ten-fifteen, and she hoped that would suit you."
+He spoke reluctantly, as if expecting a rebuke.
+
+At the opening sentence Loder had turned aside, but now, as
+the man finished, he wheeled round again and looked at him
+closely with his keen, observant eyes.
+
+"Look here," he said.  "I can't have you speak to me like
+that.  I may come down on you rather sharply when my--my
+nerves are bad; but when I'm myself I treat you--well, I treat
+you decently, at any rate.  You'll have to learn to
+discriminate.  Look at me now!"  A thrill of risk and of
+rulership passed through him as he spoke.  "Look at me now!
+Do I look as I looked this morning--or yesterday?"
+
+The man eyed him half stupidly, half timidly.
+
+"Well?" Loder insisted.
+
+"Well, sir," Renwick responded, with some slowness; "you look
+the same--and you look different.  A healthier color, perhaps,
+sir--and the eye clearer."  He grew more confident under
+Loder's half-humorous, half-insistent gaze.  "Now that I look
+closer, sir--"
+
+Loder laughed.  "That's it!" he said.  "Now that you look
+closer.  You'll have to grow observant: observation is an
+excellent quality in a servant.  Wheat you come into a
+room in future, look first of all at me--and take your
+cue from that.  Remember that serving a man with nerves
+is  like serving two masters.  Now you can go; and tell
+Mrs. Chilcote's maid that I shall be quite ready at a
+quarter-past ten."
+
+"Yes, sir.  And after that?"
+
+"Nothing further.  I sha'n't want you again to-night."  He
+turned away as he spoke, and moved towards the great fire that
+was always kept alight in Chilcote's room.  But as the man
+moved towards the door he wheeled back again.  "Oh, one thing
+more, Renwick!  Bring me some sandwiches and a whiskey."  He
+remembered for the first time that he had eaten nothing since
+early afternoon.
+
+At a few minutes after ten Loder left Chilcote's room,
+resolutely descended the stairs, and took up his position in
+the hall.  Resolution is a strong word to apply to such a
+proceeding, but something in his bearing, in the attitude of
+his shoulders and head, instinctively suggested it.
+
+Five or six minutes passed, but he waited without impatience;
+then at last the sound of a carriage stopping before the house
+caused him to lift his head, and at the same instant Eve
+appeared at the head of the staircase.
+
+She stood there for a second, looking down on him, her maid a
+pace or two behind, holding her cloak.  The picture she made
+struck upon his mind with something of a revelation.
+
+On his first sight of her she had appealed to him as a strange
+blending of youth and self-possession--a girl
+with a woman's clearer perception of life; later he had been
+drawn to study her in other aspects--as a possible comrade and
+friend; now for the first time he saw her as a power in her
+own world, a woman to whom no man could deny consideration.
+She looked taller for the distance between them, and the
+distinction of her carriage added to the effect.  Her black
+gown was exquisitely soft--as soft as her black hair; above
+her forehead was a cluster of splendid diamonds shaped like a
+coronet, and a band of the same stones encircled her neck.
+Loder realized in a glance that only the most distinguished of
+women could wear such ornaments and not have her beauty
+eclipsed.  With a touch of the old awkwardness that had before
+assailed him in her presence, he came slowly forward as she
+descended the stairs.
+
+"Can I help you with your cloak?" he asked.  And as he asked
+it, something like surprise at his own timidity crossed his
+mind.
+
+For a second Eve's glance rested on his face.  Her expression
+was quite impassive, but as she lowered her lashes a faint
+gleam flickered across her eyes; nevertheless, her answer,
+when it came, was studiously courteous.
+
+"Thank you," she said,  "but Marie will do all I want."
+
+Loder looked at her for a moment, then turned aside.  He was
+not hurt by his rebuff; rather, by an interesting sequence of
+impressions, he was stirred by it.  The pride that had refused
+Chilcote's help, and the self-control that had refused it
+graciously, moved him to admiration.  He understood and
+appreciated both by the light of person experience.
+
+"The carriage is waiting, sir," Crapham's voice broke in.
+
+Loder nodded, and Eve turned to her maid.  "That will do,
+Marie," she said.  "I shall want a cup of chocolate when I get
+back--probably at one o clock."  She drew her cloak about her
+shoulders and moved towards the door.  Then she paused and
+looked back.  "Shall we start?" she asked, quietly.
+
+Loder, still watching her, came forward at once.  "Certainly,"
+he said, with unusual gentleness.
+
+He followed her as she crossed the footpath, but made no
+further offer of help; and when the moment came he quietly
+took his place beside her in the carriage.  His last impression,
+as the horses wheeled round, was of the open hall door--Crapham
+in his sombre livery and the maid in her black dress, both
+silhouetted against the dark background of the hall; then, as
+the carriage moved forward smoothly and rapidly, he leaned back
+in his seat and closed his eyes.
+
+During the first few moments of the drive there was silence.
+To Loder there was a strange, new sensation in this
+companionship, so close and yet so distant.  He was so near to
+Eve that the slight fragrant scent from her clothes might
+almost have belonged to his own.  The impression was confusing
+yet vaguely delightful.  It was years since he had been so
+close to a woman of his own class--his own caste.  He
+acknowledged the thought with a curious sense of pleasure.
+Involuntarily he turned and looked at her.
+
+She was sitting very straight, her fine profile cut clear
+against the carriage window, her diamonds quivering in the
+light that flashed by them from the street.  For a space the
+sense of unreality that had pervaded  his first entrance into
+Chilcote's life touched him again, then another and more
+potent feeling rose to quell it.  Almost involuntarily as he
+looked at her his lips parted.
+
+"May I say something?" he asked.
+
+Eve remained motionless.  She did not turn her head, as most
+women would have done.  "Say anything you like," she said,
+gravely.
+
+"Anything?" He bent a little nearer, filled again by the
+inordinate wish to dominate.
+
+"Of course."
+
+It seemed to him that her voice sounded forced and a little
+tired.  For a moment he looked through the window at the
+passing lights; then slowly his gaze returned to her face.
+
+"You look very beautiful to-night," he said.  His voice was
+low and his manner unemotional, but his words had the effect
+he desired.
+
+She turned her head, and her eyes met his in a glance of
+curiosity and surprise.
+
+Slight as the triumph was, it thrilled him.  The small scene
+with Chilcote's valet came back to him; his own personality
+moved him again to a reckless determination to make his own
+voice heard.  Leaning forward, he laid his hand lightly on her
+arm.
+
+"Eve," he said, quickly--"Eve, do you remember?"  Then he
+paused and withdrew his hand.  The horses had slackened speed,
+then stopped altogether as the carriage fell into line outside
+Bramfell House.
+
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+
+Loder entered Lady Bramfell's feeling far more like an actor
+in a drama than an ordinary man in a peculiar situation.  It
+was the first time he had played Chilcote to a purely social
+audience, and the first time for many years that he had rubbed
+shoulders with a well-dressed crowd ostensibly brought
+together for amusement.  As he followed Eve along the corridor
+that led to the reception-rooms he questioned the reality of
+the position again and again; then abruptly, at the moment
+when the sensation of unfamiliarity was strongest, a cheery
+voice hailed him, and, turning, he saw the square shoulders,
+light eyes, and pointed mustache of Lakeley, the owner of the
+'St. George's Gazette'.
+
+At the sight of the man and the sound of his greeting his
+doubts and speculations vanished.  The essentials of life rose
+again to the position they had occupied three weeks ago, in
+the short but strenuous period when his dormant activities had
+been stirred and he had recognized his true self.  He lifted
+his head unconsciously, the shade of misgiving that had
+crossed his confidence passing from him as he smiled at
+Lakeley with a keen, alert pleasure that altered his whole
+face.
+
+Eve, looking back, saw the expression.  It attracted and held
+her, like a sudden glimpse into a secret room.  In all the
+years of her marriage, in the months of her courtship even,
+she had never surprised the look on Chilcote's face.  The
+impression came quickly.  and with it a strange, warm rush of
+interest that receded slowly, leaving an odd sense of
+loneliness.  But, at the moment that the feeling came and
+passed, her attention was claimed in another direction.  A
+slight, fair-haired boy forced his way towards her through the
+press of people that filled the corridor.
+
+"Mrs. Chilcote!" he exclaimed.  "Can I believe my luck in
+finding you alone?"
+
+Eve laughed.  It seemed that there was relief in her laugh.
+"How absurd you are, Bobby!" she said, kindly.  "But you are
+wrong.  My husband is here--I am waiting for him."
+
+Blessington looked round.  "Oh!" he said.  "Indeed!"  Then he
+relapsed into silence.  He was the soul of good-nature, but
+those who knew him best knew that Chilcote's summary change of
+secretaries had rankled.  Eve, conscious of the little jar,
+made haste to smooth it away.
+
+"Tell me about yourself," she said.  "What have you been
+doing?"
+
+Blessington looked at her, then smiled again, his buoyancy
+restored.  "Doing?" he said.  "Oh, calling every other
+afternoon at Grosvenor Square--only to find that a certain
+lady is never at home."
+
+At his tone Eve laughed again.  The boy, with his frank and
+ingenuous nature, had beguiled many a dull hour for her in
+past days, and she had missed him not a little when his place
+had been filled by Greening.
+
+"But I mean seriously, Bobby.  Has something good turned up?"
+
+Blessington made a wry face "Something is on its way--that's
+why I am on duty to-right.  Old Bramfell and the pater are
+working it between them.  So if Lady Bramfell or Lady Astrupp
+happen to drop a fan or a handkerchief this evening, I've got
+to be here to pick it up.  See?"
+
+"As you picked up my fans and handkerchiefs last year--and the
+year before?" Eve smiled.
+
+Blessington's face suddenly looked grave.  "I wish you hadn't
+said that," he said.  Then he paused abruptly.  Out of the hum
+of talk behind them a man's laugh sounded.  It was not loud, but
+it was a laugh that one seldom hears in a London drawing-room
+--it expressed interest, amusement, and in an inexplicable
+may it seemed also to express strength.
+
+Eve and Blessington both turned involuntarily.
+
+"By Jove!" said Blessington
+
+Eve said nothing.
+
+Loder was parting with Lakely, and his was the laugh that had
+attracted them both.  The interest excited by his talk was
+still reflected in his face and bearing as he made his way
+towards them.
+
+"By Jove!" said Blessington again.  "I never realized that
+Chilcote was so tall."
+
+Again Eve said nothing.  But silently and with a more subtle
+meaning she found herself echoing the words.
+
+Until he was quite close to her, Loder did not seem to see
+her.  Then he stopped quietly.
+
+"I was speaking to Lakely," he said.  "He wants me to dine
+with him one night at Cadogan Gardens."
+
+But Eve was silent, waiting for him to address Blessington.
+She glanced at him quickly, but though their eyes met he did
+not catch the meaning that lay in hers.  It was a difficult
+moment.  She had known him incredibly, almost unpardonably,
+absent-minded, but it had invariably been when he was
+suffering from nerves," as she phrased it to herself.  But
+to-night he was obviously in the possession of unclouded
+faculties.  She colored slightly and glanced under her lashes
+at Blessington.  Had the same idea struck him, she wondered?
+But he was studiously studying a suit of Chinese armor that
+stood close by in a niche of the wall.
+
+"Bobby has been keeping me amused while you talked to Mr.
+Lakely," she said, pointedly.
+
+Directly addressed, Loder turned and looked at Blessington.
+"How d'you do?" he said, with doubtful cordiality.  The name
+of Bobby conveyed nothing to him.
+
+To his surprise, Eve looked annoyed, and Blessington's
+fresh-colored face deepened in tone.  With a slow,
+uncomfortable sensation he was aware of having struck a
+wrong note.
+
+There was a short, unpleasant pause.  Then, more by intuition
+than actual sight, Blessington saw Eve's eyes turn from him to
+Loder, and with quick tact he saved the situation.
+
+"How d'you do, sir?" he responded, with a smile.  "I
+congratulate you on looking so--so uncommon well.  I was just
+telling Mrs. Chilcote that I hold a commission for Lady
+Astrupp to-night.  I'm a sort of scout at present--reporting
+on the outposts."  He spoke fast and without much meaning, but
+his boyish voice eased the strain.
+
+Eve thanked him with a smile.  "Then we mustn't interfere with
+a person on active service," she said.  "Besides, we have our
+own duties to get through."
+
+She smiled again, and, touching Loder's arm, indicated the
+reception-rooms.
+
+When they entered the larger of the two rooms Lady Bramfell
+was still receiving her guests.  She was a tall and angular
+woman, who, except for a certain beauty of hands and feet and
+a certain similarity of voice, possessed nothing in common
+with her sister Lillian.  She was speaking to a group of
+people as they approached, and the first sound of her sweet
+and rather drawling tones touched Loder with a curious
+momentary feeling--a vague suggestion of awakened memories.
+Then the suggestion vanished as she turned and greeted Eve.
+
+"How sweet of you to come!" she murmured.  And it seemed to
+Loder that a more spontaneous smile lighted up her face.  Then
+she extended her hand to him.  "And you, too!" she added.
+"Though I fear we shall bore you dreadfully."
+
+Watching her with interest, he saw the change of expression as
+her eyes turned from Eve to him, and noticed a colder tone in
+her voice as she addressed him directly.  The observation
+moved him to self-assertion.
+
+"That's a poor compliment to me," he said "To be bored is
+surely only a polite way of being inane."
+
+Lady Bramfell smiled.  "What!" she exclaimed.  "You defending
+your social reputation?"
+
+Loder laughed a little.  "The smaller it is, the more
+defending it needs," he replied.
+
+Another stream of arrivals swept by them as he spoke; Eve
+smiled at their hostess and moved across the room, and he
+perforce followed.  As he gained her side, the little court
+about Lady Bramfell was left well in the rear, the great
+throng at the farther end of the room was not yet reached, and
+for the moment they were practically alone.
+
+There was a certain uneasiness in that moment of companionship.
+It seemed to him that Eve wished to speak, but hesitated.  Once
+or twice she opened and closed the fan that she was carrying,
+then at last, as if by an effort, she turned and looked at him.
+
+"Why were you so cold to Bobby Blessington?" she asked.
+"Doesn't it seem discourteous to ignore him as you did?"
+
+Her manner was subdued.  It was not the annoyed manner that
+one uses to a man when he has behaved ill; it was the
+explanatory tone one might adopt towards an incorrigible
+child.  Loder felt this; but the gist of a remark always came
+to him first, its mode of expression later.  The fact that it
+was Blessington whom he had encountered--Blessington to whom
+he had spoken with vague politeness--came to him with a sense
+of unpleasantness.  He was not to blame in the matter,
+nevertheless he blamed himself.  He was annoyed that, he
+should have made the slip in Eve's presence.
+
+They were moving forward, nearing the press of people in the
+second room, when Eve spoke, and the fact filled him with an
+added sense of annoyance.  People smiled and bowed to her from
+every side; one woman leaned forward as they passed and
+whispered something in her ear.  Again the sensation of
+futility and vexation filled him; again he realized how
+palpable was the place she held in the world.  Then, as his
+feelings reached their height and speech seemed forced upon
+him, a small man with a round face, catching a glimpse of Eve,
+darted from a circle of people gathered in one of the windows
+and came quickly towards them.
+
+With an unjust touch of irritation he recognized Lord
+Bramfell.
+
+Again the sense of Eve's aloofness stung him as their host
+approached.  In another moment she would be lost to him among
+this throng of strangers--claimed by them as by right.
+
+"Eve--" he said, involuntarily and under his breath.
+
+She half paused and turned towards him.  "Yes?" she said; and
+he wondered if it was his imagination that made the word sound
+slightly eager.
+
+"About that matter of Blessington--" he began.  Then he
+stopped, Bramfell had reached them.
+
+The little man came up smiling and with an outstretched hand.
+"There's no penalty for separating husband and wife, is there,
+Mrs. Chilcote?  How are you, Chilcote?"  He turned from one to
+the other with the quick, noiseless manner that always
+characterized him.
+
+Loder turned aside to hide his vexation, but Eve greeted their
+host with her usual self-possessed smile.
+
+"You are exempt from all penalties to-night," she said.  Then
+she turned to greet the members of his party who had strolled
+across from the window in his wake.
+
+As she moved aside Bramfell looked at Loder.  "Well, Chilcote,
+have you dipped into the future yet?" he asked, with a laugh.
+
+Loder echoed the laugh but said nothing.  In his uncertainty
+at the question he reverted to his old resource of silence.
+
+Bramfell raised his eyebrows.  "What!" he said.  "Don't tell
+me that my sister-in-law hasn't engaged you as a victim."
+Then he turned in Eve's direction.  "You've heard of our new
+departure, Mrs. Chilcote?"
+
+Eve looked round from the lively group by which she was
+surrounded.  "Lillian's crystal-gazing?  Why, of course!" she
+said.  "She should make a very beautiful seer.  We are all
+quite curious."
+
+Bramfell pursed up his lips.  "She has a very beautiful tent
+at the end of the conservatory.  It took five men as many days
+to rig it up.  We couldn't hear ourselves talk, for hammering.
+My wife said it made her feel quite philanthropic, it reminded
+her so much of a charity bazaar."
+
+Everybody laughed; and at the same moment Blessington came
+quickly across the room and joined the group.
+
+"Hallo!" he said.  "Anybody seen Witcheston?  He's next on my
+list for the crystal business."
+
+Again the whole party laughed, and Bramfell, stepping forward,
+touched Blessington's arm in mock seriousness.
+
+"Witcheston is playing bridge, like a sensible man," he said.
+"Leave him in peace, Bobby."
+
+Blessington made a comical grimace.  "But I'm working this on
+commercial principles," he said.  "I keep the list, names and
+hours complete, and Lady Astrupp gazes, in blissful ignorance
+as to who her victims are.  The whole thing is great--simple
+and statistical."
+
+"For goodness' sake, Bobby, shut up!"  Bramfell's round eyes
+were twinkling with amusement.
+
+"But my system--"
+
+"Systems!  Ah, we all had them when we were as young as you
+are!"
+
+"And they all had flaws, Bobby," Eve broke in.  "We were always
+finding gaps that had to be filled up.  Never mind about Lord
+Witcheston.  Get a substitute; it won't count--if Lillian
+doesn't know."
+
+Blessington wavered as she spoke.  His eyes wandered round the
+party and again rested on Bramfell.
+
+"Not me, Bobby!  Remember, I've breathed crystals--practically
+lived on them--for the last week.  Now, there's Chilcote--"
+Again his eyes twinkled.
+
+All eyes were turned on Loder, though one or two strayed
+surreptitiously to Eve.  She, seeming sensitive to the
+position, laughed quickly.
+
+"A very good idea!" she said.  "Who wants to see the future,
+if not a politician?"
+
+Loder glanced from her to Blessington.  Then, with a very
+feminine impulse, she settled the matter beyond dispute.
+
+"Please use your authority, Bobby," she said.  "And when
+you've got him safely under canvas, come back to me.  It's
+years since we've had a talk."  She nodded and smiled, then
+instantly turned to Bramfell with some trivial remark.
+
+For a second Loder waited, then with a movement of resignation
+he laid his hand on Blessington's arm.  "Very well!" he said.
+"But if my fate is black, witness it was my wife who sent me
+to it."  His faint pause on the word wife, the mention of the
+word itself in the presence of these people, had a savor of
+recklessness.  The small discomfiture of his earlier slip
+vanished before it; he experienced a strong reaction of
+confidence in his luck.  With a cool head, a steady step, and
+a friendly pressure of the fingers on Blessington's arm, he
+allowed himself to be drawn across the reception-rooms,
+through the long corridors, and down the broad flight of steps
+that led to the conservatory.
+
+The conservatory was a feature of the Bramfell townhouse, and
+to Loder it came as something wonderful and unlooked-for--with
+its clustering green branches, its slight, unoppressive scents,
+its temperately pleasant atmosphere.  He felt no wish to speak
+as, still guided by Blessington, he passed down the shadowy
+paths that in the half-light had the warmth and mystery of a
+Southern garden.  Here and there from the darkness came the
+whispering of a voice or the sound of a laugh, bringing with
+them the necessary touch of life.  Otherwise the place was still.
+
+Absorbed by the air of solitude, contrasting so remarkably
+with the noise and crowded glitter left behind in the
+reception-rooms, he had moved half-way down the long, green
+aisle before the business in hand came back to him with a
+sudden sense of annoyance.  It seemed so paltry to mar the
+quiet of the place with the absurdity of a side-show.  He
+turned to Blessington with a touch of abruptness.
+
+"What am I expected to do?" he asked.
+
+Blessington looked up, surprised.  "Why, I thought, sir--" he
+began.  Then he instantly altered his tone: "Oh, just enter
+into the spirit of the thing.  Lady Astrupp won't put much
+strain on your credulity, but she'll make a big call on your
+solemnity."  He laughed.
+
+He had an infectious laugh, and Loder responded to it.
+
+"But what am I to do?" he persisted.
+
+"Oh, nothing.  Being the priestess, she, naturally demands
+acolytes; but she'll let you know that she holds the prior
+place.  The tent is so fixed that she sees nothing beyond your
+hands; so there's absolutely no delusion."  He laughed once
+more.  Then suddenly he lowered his voice and slackened his
+steps.  "Here we are!" he whispered, in pretended awe.
+
+At the end of the path the space widened to the full breadth
+of the conservatory.  The light was dimmer, giving an added
+impression of distance; away to the left, Loder heard the
+sound of splashing water, and on his right hand he caught his
+first glimpse of the tent that was his goal.
+
+It was an artistic little structure--a pavilion formed of
+silky fabric that showed bronze in the light of an Oriental
+lamp that hung above its entrance.  As they drew closer, a man
+emerged from it.  He stood for a moment in uncertainty,
+looking about him; then, catching sight of them, he came
+forward laughing.
+
+"By George!" he exclaimed, "it's as dark as limbo in there!  I
+didn't see you at first.  But I say, Blessirigton, it's a
+beastly shame to have that thunder-cloud barrier shutting off
+the sorceress.  If she gazes at the crystal, mayn't we have
+something to gaze at, too?"
+
+Blessington laughed.  "You want too much, Galltry," he said.
+"Lady Astrupp understands the value of the unattainable.  Come
+along, sir!" he added to Loder, drawing him forward with an
+energetic pressure of the arm.
+
+Loder responded, and as he did so a flicker of curiosity
+touched his mind for the first time.  He wondered for an
+instant who this woman was who aroused so much comment.  And
+with the speculation came the remembrance of how she had
+assured Chilcote that on one point.  at least he was
+invulnerable.  He had spoken then from the height of a past
+experience--an experience so fully passed that he wondered now
+if it had been as staple a guarantee as he had then believed.
+Man's capacity for outliving is astonishingly complete.  The
+long-ago incident in the Italian mountains had faded, like a
+crayon study in which the tones have merged and gradually lost
+character.  The past had paled before the present--as golden
+hair might pale before black.  The simile came with apparent
+irrelevance.  Then again Blessington pressed his arm.
+
+"Now, sir!" he said, drawing away and lifting the curtain that
+hung before the entrance of the tent.
+
+Loder looked at the amused, boyish face lighted by the hanging
+lamp, and smiled pleasantly; then, with a shrug of the
+shoulders, he entered the pavilion and the curtain fell behind
+him.
+
+
+
+XV
+
+
+On entering the pavilion, Loder's first feeling was one of
+annoyed awkwardness at finding himself in almost total
+darkness.  But as his eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, the
+feeling vanished and the absurdity of the position came to his
+mind.
+
+The tent was small, heavily draped with silk and smelling of
+musk.  It was divided into two sections by an immovable
+curtain that hung from the roof to within a few feet of the
+floor.  The only furniture on Loder's side was one low chair,
+and the only light a faint radiance that, coming from the
+invisible half of the pavilion; spread across the floor in a
+pale band.  For a short space he stood uncertain, then his
+hesitation was brought to an end.
+
+"Please sit down," said a low, soft voice.
+
+For a further moment he stood undecided.  The voice sounded so
+unexpectedly near.  In the quiet and darkness of the place it
+seemed to possess a disproportionate weight--almost the weight
+of a familiar thing.  Then, with a sudden, unanalyzed touch of
+relief, he located the impression.  It was the similarity to
+Lady Bramfell's sweet, slow tones that had stirred his mind.
+With a sense of satisfaction he drew the chair forward and sat
+down.
+
+Then, for the first time, he saw that on the other side of
+the gauze partition, and below it by a few inches, was a
+small table of polished wood, on which stood an open book, a
+crystal ball, and a gold dish filled with ink.  These were
+arranged on the side of the table nearest to him, the farther
+side being out of his range of vision.  An amused interest
+touched him as he made his position more comfortable.  Whoever
+this woman was, she had an eye for stage management, she knew
+how to marshal her effects.  He found himself waiting with
+some curiosity for the next injunction from behind the
+curtain.
+
+"The art of crystal-gazing," began the sweet, slow voice after
+a pause, "is one of the oldest known arts."  Loder sat forward.
+The thought of Lady Bramfell mingled disconcertingly with some
+other thought more distant and less easy to secure.
+
+"To obtain the best results," went on the seer, "the subject
+lays his uncovered hands outspread upon a smooth surface."  It
+was evident that the invisible priestess was reading from the
+open book, for when the word "surface" was reached there was a
+slight stir that indicated the changing of position; and when.
+the voice came again it was in a different tone.
+
+"Please lay your hands, palms downward, upon the table."
+
+Loder smiled to himself in the darkness.  He pictured Chilcote
+with his nerves and his impatience going through this ordeal;
+then in good-humored silence he leaned forward and obeyed the
+command.  His hands rested on the smooth surface of the table
+in the bar of light from the unseen lamp.
+
+There was a second in which the seer was silent; then he
+fancied that she raised her head.
+
+"You must take off your rings," she said smoothly.  "Any metal
+interferes with the sympathetic current."
+
+At any other time Loder would have laughed; but the request so
+casually and graciously made sent all possibility of irony far
+into the background.  The thought of Chilcote and of the one
+flaw in their otherwise flawless scheme rose to his mind.
+Instinctively he half withdrew his hands.
+
+"Where is the sympathetic current?" he asked, quietly.  His
+thoughts were busy with the question of whether he would or
+would not be justified in beating an undignified retreat.
+
+"Between you and me, of course," said the voice, softly.  It
+sounded languid, but very rational.  The idea of retreat
+seemed suddenly theatrical.  In this world of low voices and
+shaded lights people never adopted extreme measures--no
+occasion made a scene practicable, or even allowable.  He
+leaned back slowly, while he summed up the situation.  If by
+any unlucky chance this woman knew Chilcote to have adopted
+jewelry and had seen the designs of his rings, the sight of
+his own scarred finger would suggest question and comment; if,
+on the other hand, he left the pavilion without excuse, or if,
+without apparent reason, he refused to remove the rings, he
+opened up a new difficulty--a fresh road to curiosity.  It
+came upon him with unusual quickness--the obstacles to, and
+the need for, a speedy decision.  He glanced round the tent,
+then unconsciously he straightened his shoulders.  After all,
+he had stepped into a tight corner, but there was no need to
+cry out in squeezing his way back.  Then he realized that the
+soft, ingratiating tones were sounding once more.
+
+"It's the passing of my hands over yours, while I look into
+the crystal, that sets up sympathy"--a slender hand moved
+swiftly into the light and picked up the ball--"and makes my
+eyes see the pictures in your mind.  Now, will you please take
+off your rings?"
+
+The very naturalness of the request disarmed him.  It was a
+risk.  But, as Chilcote had said, risk was the salt of life!
+
+"I'm afraid you think me very troublesome."  The voice came
+again, delicately low and conciliatory.
+
+For a brief second Loder wondered uncertainly how long or how
+well Chilcote knew Lady Astrupp; then he dismissed the
+question.  Chilcote had never mentioned her until to-night,
+and then casually as Lady Bramfell's sister.  What a coward he
+was becoming in throwing the dice with Fate!  Without further
+delay he drew off the rings, slipped them into his pocket, and
+replaced his hands on the smooth table-top.
+
+Then, at the moment that he replaced them, a peculiar thing
+occurred.
+
+From the farther side of the dark partition came the quick,
+rustling stir of a skirt, and the slight scrape of a chair
+pushed either backward or forward.  Then there was silence.
+
+Now, silence can suggest anything, from profound thought to
+imbecility; but in this case its suggestion was nil.  That
+something had happened, that some change had taken place, was
+as patent to Loder as the darkness of the curtain or the band
+of light that crossed the floor, but what had occasioned it,
+or what it stood for, he made no attempt to decide.  He sat
+bitingly conscious of his hands spread open on the table under
+the scrutiny of eyes that were invisible to him vividly aware
+of the awkwardness of his position.  He felt with instinctive
+certainty that a new chord had been struck; but a man seldom
+acts on instinctive certainties.  If the exposure of his hands
+had struck this fresh note, then any added action would but
+heighten the dilemma.  He sat silent and motionless.
+
+Whether his impassivity had any bearing on the moment he had
+no way of knowing; but no further movement came from behind
+the partition.  Whatever the emotions that had caused the
+sharp swish of skirts and the sharp scrape of the chair, they
+had evidently subsided or been dominated by other feelings.
+
+The next indication of life that came to him was the laying
+down of the crystal ball.  It was laid back upon the table
+with a slight jerk that indicated a decision come to; and
+almost simultaneously the seer's voice came to him again.  Her
+tone was lower now than it had been before, and its extreme
+ease seemed slightly shaken--whether by excitement, surprise,
+or curiosity, it was impossible to say.
+
+"You will think it strange--" she began.  "You will think--"
+Then she stopped.
+
+There was a pause, as though she waited for some help, but
+Loder remained mute.  In difficulty a silent tongue and a cool
+head are usually man's best weapons.
+
+His silence was disconcerting.  He heard her stir again.
+
+"You will think it strange--" she began once more.  Then quite
+suddenly she checked and controlled her voice.  "You must
+forgive me for what I am going to say," she added, in a
+completely different tone, "but crystal-gazing is such an
+illusive thing.  Directly you put your hands upon the table I
+felt that there would be no result; but I wouldn't admit the
+defeat.  Women are such keen anglers that they can never
+acknowledge that any fish, however big, has slipped the hook."
+She laughed softly.
+
+At the soand of the laugh Loder shifted his position for the
+first time.  He could not have told why, but it struck him
+with a slight sense of confusion.  A precipitate wish to rise
+and pass through the doorway into the wider spaces of the
+conservatory came to him, though he made no attempt to act
+upon it.  He knew that, for some inexplicable reason, this
+woman behind the screen had lied to him--in the controlling of
+her speech, in her charge of voice.  There had been one moment
+in which an impulse or an emotion had almost found voice; then
+training, instinct, or it might have been diplomacy, had
+conquered, and the moment had passed.  There was a riddle in
+the very atmosphere of the place--and he abominated riddles.
+
+But Lady Astrupp was absorbed in her own concerns.  Again she
+changed her position; and to Loder, listening attentively, it
+seemed that she leaned forward and examined his hands afresh.
+The sensation was so acute that he withdrew them
+involuntarily.
+
+Again there was a confused rustle; the crystal ball rolled
+from the table, and the seer laughed quickly.  Obeying a
+strenuous impulse, Loder rose.
+
+He had no definite notion of what he expected or what he must
+avoid.  He was only conscious that the pavilion, with its silk
+draperies, its scent of musk, and its intolerable secrecy, was
+no longer endurable.  He felt cramped and confused in mind and
+muscle.  He stood for a second to straighten his limbs; then
+he turned, and, moving directly forward, passed through the
+portiere.
+
+After the dimness of the pavilion the conservatory seemed
+comparatively bright; but without waiting to grow accustomed
+to the altered light he moved onward with deliberate haste.
+The long, green alley, was speedily traversed; in his eyes it
+no longer possessed greenness, no longer suggested freshness
+or repose.  It was simply a means to the end upon which his
+mind was set.
+
+As he passed up the flight of steps he drew his rings from his
+pocket and slipped them on again.  Then he stepped into the
+glare of the thronged corridor.
+
+Some one hailed him as be passed through the crowd, but with
+Chilcote's most absorbed manner he hurried on.  Through the
+door of the supper-room he caught sight of Blessington and
+Eve, and then for the first time his expression changed, and
+he turned directly towards them.
+
+"Eve," he said, "will you excuse me?  I have a word to say to
+Blessington."
+
+She glanced at him in momentary surprise; then she smiled in
+her quiet, self-possessed way.
+
+"Of course!" she said.  "I've been wanting a chat with
+Millicent Gower, but Bobby has required so much entertaining--"
+She smiled again, this time at Blessington, and moved away
+towards a pale girl in green who was standing alone.
+
+Instantly she had turned Loder took Blessington's arm.
+
+"I know you're tremendously busy," he began, in an excellent
+imitation of Chilcote's hasty manner--"  I know you're
+tremendously busy, but I'm in a fix."
+
+One glance at Blessington's healthy, ingenuous face told him
+that plain speaking was the method to adopt.
+
+"Indeed, sir?"  In a moment Blessington was on the alert.
+
+"Yes.  And I--I want your help."
+
+The boy reddened.  That Chilcote should appeal to him stirred
+him to an uneasy feeling of pride and uncertainty.
+
+Loder saw his advantage and pressed it home.  "It's come about
+through this crystal-gazing business.  I'm afraid I didn't
+play my part--rather made an ass of myself; I wouldn't swallow
+the thing, and--and Lady Astrupp--"  He paused, measuring
+Blessington with a glance.  "Well, my dear boy, you--you know
+what women are!"
+
+Blessington was only twenty-three.  He reddened again, and
+assumed an air of profundity.  "I know.  sir," he said, with a
+shake of the head.
+
+Loder's sense of humor was keen, but he kept a grave face.  "I
+knew you'd catch my meaning; but I want you to do something
+more.  If Lady Astrupp should ask you who was in her tent this
+past ten minutes, I want you--" Again he stopped, looking at
+his companion's face.
+
+"Yes, sir?"
+
+"I want you to tell an immaterial lie for me."
+
+Blessington returned his glance; then he laughed a little
+uncomfortably.  "But surely, sir--"
+
+"She recognized me, you mean?" Loder's eyes were as keen as
+steel.
+
+Yes."
+
+"Then you're wrong.  She didn't."
+
+Blessington's eyebrows went up.
+
+There was silence.  Loder glanced across the room.  Eve had
+parted from the girl in green and was moving towards them,
+exchanging smiles and greetings as she came.
+
+"My wife is coming back," he said.  "Will you do this for me,
+Blessington?  It--it will smooth things--"  He spoke quickly,
+continuing to watch Eve.  As he had hoped, Blessington's eyes
+turned in the same direction.  "'Twill smooth matters," he
+repeated, "smooth them in--in a domestic way that I can't
+explain."
+
+The shot told.  Blessington looked round.
+
+"Right, sir!" he said.  "You may leave it to me," And before
+Loder could speak again he had turned and disappeared into the
+crowd.
+
+
+
+
+XVI
+
+
+His business with Blessington over, Loder breathed more
+freely.  If Lady Astrupp had recognized Chilcote by the rings,
+and had been roused to curiosity, the incident would demand
+settlement sooner or later--settlement in what proportion he
+could hazard no guess; if, on the other hand, her obvious
+change of manner had arisen from any other source he had a
+hazy idea that a woman's behavior could never be gauged by
+accepted theories--then he had safeguarded Chilcote's
+interests and his own by his securing of Blessington's
+promise.  Blessington he knew would be reliable and discreet.
+With a renewal of confidence--a pleasant feeling that his
+uneasiness had been groundless--he moved forward to greet Eve.
+
+Her face, with its rich, clear coloring, seemed to his gaze to
+stand out from the crowd of other faces as from a frame, and a
+sense of pride touched him.  In every eye but his own her
+beauty belonged to him.
+
+His face looked alive and masterful as she reached his side.
+"May I monopolize you?" he said, with the quickness of speech
+borrowed from Chilcote.  "We see so little of each other."
+
+Almost as if compelled, her lashes lifted and her eyes met
+his.  Her glance was puzzled, uncertain, slightly confused.
+There was a deeper color than usual in her cheeks.  Loder felt
+something within his own consciousness stir in response.
+
+"You know you are yielding," he said.
+
+Again she blushed.
+
+He saw the blush, and knew that it was he--his words, his
+personality--that had called it forth.  In Chilcote's actual
+semblance he had proved his superiority over Chilcote.  For
+the first time he had been given a tacit, personal
+acknowledgment of his power.  Involuntarily he drew nearer to
+her.
+
+"Let's get out of this crush."
+
+She made no answer except to bend her head; and it came to him
+that, for all her pride, she liked--and unconsciously yielded
+to--domination.  With a satisfied gesture he turned to make a
+passage towards the door.
+
+But the passage was more easily desired than made.  In the few
+moments since he had entered the supper-room the press of
+people had considerably thickened--until a block had formed
+about the door-way.  Drawing Eve with him, he moved forward
+for a dozen paces, then paused, unable to make further
+headway.
+
+As they stood there, he looked back at her.  "What a study in
+democracy a crowd always is!" he said.
+
+She responded with a bright, appreciative glance, as if
+surprised into naturalness.  He wondered sharply what she
+would be like if her enthusiasms were really aroused.  Then a
+stir in the corridor outside caused a movement inside the
+room; and with a certain display of persistence he was enabled
+to make a passage to the door.
+
+There again they were compelled to halt.  But though tightly
+wedged into his new position and guarding Eve with one arm,
+Loder was free to survey the brilliantly thronged corridor
+over the head of a man a few inches shorter than himself, who
+stood directly in front of him.
+
+"What are we waiting for?" he asked, good humoredly,
+addressing the back of the stranger's head.
+
+The man turned, displaying a genial face, a red mustache, and
+an eye-glass.
+
+"Hullo, Chilcote!" he said.  "Hope it's not on your feet I'm
+standing."
+
+Loder laughed.  "No," he said.  "And don't change the
+position.  If you were an inch higher I should be blind as
+well as crippled."
+
+The other laughed.  It was a pleasant surprise to find
+Chilcote amiable under discomfort.  He looked round again in
+slight curiosity.
+
+Loder felt the scrutiny.  To create a diversion he looked out
+along the corridor.  "I believe we are waiting for something,"
+he exclaimed.  "What's this?"  Then quite abruptly be ceased
+to speak.
+
+"Anything interesting?" Eve touched his arm.
+
+He said nothing; he made no effort to look round.  His thought
+as well as his speech was suddenly suspended.
+
+The man in front of him let his eye-glass fall from his eye,
+then screwed it in again.
+
+"Jove!" he exclaimed.  "Here comes our sorceress.  It's like
+the progress of a fairy princess.  I believe this is the
+meaning of our getting penned in here," he chuckled
+delightedly.
+
+Loder said nothing.  He stared straight on over the other's
+head.
+
+Along the corridor, agreeably conscious of the hum of
+admiration she aroused, came Lillian Astrupp, surrounded by a
+little court.  Her delicate face was lit up; her eyes shone
+under the faint gleam of her hair; her gown of gold embroidery
+swept round her gracefully.  She was radiant and triumphant,
+but she was also excited.  The excitement was evident in her
+laugh, in her gestures, in her eyes, as they turned quickly in
+one direction and then another.
+
+Loder, gazing in stupefaction over the other man's head, saw
+it--felt and understood it with a mind that leaped back over a
+space of years.  As in a shifting panorama he saw a night of
+disturbance and confusion in a far-off Italian valley--a
+confusion from which one face shone out with something of the
+pale, alluring radiance that filtered over the hillside from
+the crescent moon.  It passed across his consciousness slowly
+but with a slow completeness; and in its light the incidents
+of the past hour stood out in a new aspect.  The echo of
+recollection stirred by Lady Bramfell's voice, the re-echo of
+it in the sister's tones; his own blindness, his own egregious
+assurance--all struck across his mind.
+
+Meanwhile the party about Lillian drew nearer.  He felt with
+instinctive certainty that the supper-room was its
+destination, but he remained motionless, held by a species of
+fatalism.  He watched her draw near with an unmoved face, but
+in the brief space that passed while she traversed the
+corridor he gauged to the full the hold that the new
+atmosphere, the new existence, had gained over his mind.  With
+an unlooked-for rush of feeling he realized how dearly he
+would part with it.
+
+As Lillian came closer, the meaning of her manner became
+clearer to him.  She talked incessantly, laughing now and
+then, but her eyes were never quiet.  These skimmed the length
+of the corridor, then glanced over the heads crowded in the
+door-way.
+
+"I'll have something quite sweet, Geoffrey," she was saying to
+the man beside her, as she came within hearing.  "You know
+what I like--a sort of snowflake wrapped up in sugar." As she
+said the words her glance wandered.  Loder saw it rest
+uninterestedly on a boy a yard or two in front of him, then
+move to the man over whose head he gazed, then lift itself
+inevitably to his face.
+
+The glance was quick and direct.  He saw the look of
+recognition spring across it; he saw her move forward suddenly
+as the crowd in the corridor parted to let her pass.  Then he
+saw what seemed to him a miracle.
+
+Her whole expression altered, her lips parted, and she colored
+with annoyance.  She looked like a spoiled child who, seeing a
+bonbon-box, opens it--to find it empty.
+
+As the press about the door-way melted to give her passage,
+the red-haired man in front of Loder was the first to take
+advantage of the space.  "Jove!  Lillian," he said, moving
+forward, "you look as if you expected Chilcote to be somebody
+else, and are disappointed to find he's only himself!"  He
+laughed delightedly at his own joke.
+
+The words were exactly the tonic that Lillian needed.  She
+smiled her usual undisturbed smile as she turned her eyes upon
+him.
+
+"My dear Leonard, you're using your eye-glass; when that
+happens you're never responsible for what you see."  Her words
+came more slowly and with a touch of languid amusement.  Her
+composure was suddenly restored.
+
+Then for the first time Loder changed his position.  Moved by
+an impulse he made no effort to dissect, he stepped back to
+Eve's side and slipped his arm through hers--successfully
+concealing his left hand.
+
+The warmth of her skin through her long glove thrilled him
+unexpectedly.  His impulse had been one of self-defence, but
+the result was of a different character.  At the quick contact
+the wish to fight for--to hold and defend--the position that
+had grown so dear woke in renewed force.  With a new
+determination he turned again towards Lillian.
+
+"I caught the same impression--without an eyeglass," he said.
+"Why did you look like that?"  He asked the question steadily
+and with apparent carelessness, though, through it all, his
+reason stood aghast--his common-sense cried aloud that it was
+impossible for the eyes that had seen his face in admiration,
+in love, in contempt, to fail now in recognition.  The air
+seemed breathless while he spoke and waited.  His impression
+of Lillian was a mere shimmering of gold dress and gold hair;
+all that he was really conscious of was the pressure of his
+hand on Eve's arm and the warmth of her skin through the soft
+glove.  Then, abruptly, the mist lifted.  He saw Lillian's
+eyes--indifferent, amused, slightly contemptuous; and a second
+later he heard her voice.
+
+"My dear Jack," she said, sweetly, "how absurd of you!  It was
+simply the contrast of your eyes peering over Leonard's hair
+It was like a gorgeous sunset with a black cloud overhead."
+She laughed.  "Do you see what I mean, Eve?"  She affected to
+see Eve for the first time.
+
+Eve had been looking calmly ahead.  She turned now and smiled
+serenely.  Loder felt no vibration of the arm he held, yet by
+an instant intuition he knew that the two women were
+antagonistic.  He experienced it with the divination that
+follows upon a moment of acute suspense.  He understood it, as
+he had understood Lillian's look of recognition when his
+forehead, eyes, and nose had shown him to be himself; her
+blank surprise when his close-shaven lip and chin had
+proclaimed him Chilcote.
+
+He felt like a man who has looked into an abyss and stepped
+back from the edge, outwardly calm but mentally shaken.
+The commonplaces of life seemed for the moment to hold deeper
+meanings.  He did not hear Eve's answer, he paid
+no heed to Lillian's next remark.  He saw her smile and turn
+to the red-haired man; finally he saw her move on into the
+supper-room, followed by her little court.  Then he pressed
+the arm he was still holding.  He felt an urgent need of
+companionship--of a human expression to the crisis he had
+passed.
+
+"Shall we get out of this?" he asked again.
+
+Eve looked up.  "Out of the room?" she said.
+
+He looked down at her, compelling her gaze.  "Out of the room
+--and the house," he answered.  "Let us go-home."
+
+
+
+
+XVII
+
+
+The necessary formalities of departure were speedily got
+through.  The passing of the corridors, the gaining of the
+carriage, seemed to Loder to be marvellously simple
+proceedings.  Then, as he sat by Eve's side and again felt the
+forward movement of the horses, he had leisure for the first
+time to wonder whether the time that had passed since last he
+occupied that position had actually been lived through.
+
+Only that night he had unconsciously compared one incident in
+his life to a sketch in which the lights and shadows have been
+obliterated and lost.  Now that picture rose before him,
+startlingly and incredibly intact.  He saw the sunlit houses
+of Santasalare, backgrounded by the sunlit hills--saw them as
+plainly as when he himself had sketched them on his memory.
+Every detail of the scene remained the same, even to the
+central figure; only the eye and the hand of the artist had
+changed.
+
+At this point Eve broke in upon his thoughts.  Her first words
+were curiously coincidental.
+
+"What did you think of Lillian Astrupp to-night?" she asked.
+"Wasn't her gown perfect?"
+
+Loder lifted his head with an almost guilty start.  Then he
+answered straight from his thoughts.
+
+"I--I didn't notice it," he said; "but her eyes reminded me of
+a cat's eyes--and she walks like a cat.  I never seemed to see
+it--until to-night."
+
+Eve changed her position.  "She was very artistic," she said,
+tentatively.  "Don't you think the gold gown was beautiful
+with her pale-colored hair?"
+
+Loder felt surprised.  He was convinced that Eve disliked the
+other and he was not sufficiently versed in women to
+understand her praise.  "I thought--" he began.  Then he
+wisely stopped.  "I didn't see the gown," he substituted.
+
+Eve looked out of the window.  "How unappreciative men are!"
+she said.  But her tone was strangely free from censure.
+
+After this there was silence until Grosvenor Square was
+reached.  Having left the carriage and passed into the house,
+Eve paused for a moment at the foot of the stairs to give an
+order to Crapham, who was still in attendance in the hall; and
+again Loder had an opportunity of studying her.  As he looked,
+a sharp comparison rose to his mind.
+
+"A fairy princess!" he had heard the red-haired man say as
+Lillian Astrupp came into view along the Bramfells' corridor,
+and the simile had seemed particularly apt.  With her grace,
+her delicacy, her subtle attraction, she might well be the
+outcome of imagination.  But with Eve it was different.  She
+also was graceful and attractive--but it was grace and
+attraction of a different order.  One was beautiful with the
+beauty of the white rose that springs from the hot-house and
+withers at the first touch of cold; the other with the beauty
+of the wild rose on the cliffs above the sea, that keeps its
+petals fine and transparent in face of salt spray and wet
+mist.  Eve, too, had her realm, but it was the realm of real
+things.  A great confidence, a feeling that here one might
+rely even if all other faiths were shaken, touched him suddenly.
+For a moment he stood irresolute, watching her mount the stairs
+with her easy, assured step.  Then a determination came to him.
+Fate favored him to-night; he was in luck tonight.  He would put
+his fortune to one more test.  He swung across the hall and ran
+up the stairs.
+
+His face was keen with interest as he reached her side.  The
+hard outline of his features and the hard grayness of his eyes
+were softened as when he had paused to talk with Lakely.
+Action was the breath of his life, and his face changed under
+it as another's might change under the influence of stirring
+music or good wine.
+
+Eve saw the look and again the uneasy expression of surprise
+crossed her eyes.  She paused, her hand resting on the
+banister.
+
+Loder looked at her directly.  "Will you come into the study
+--as you came that other night?  There's something I want to
+say."  He spoke quietly.  He felt master of himself and of
+her.
+
+She hesitated, glanced at him, and then glanced away.
+
+"Will you come?" he said again.  And as he said it his eyes
+rested on the sweep of her thick eyelashes, the curve of the
+black hair.
+
+At last her lashes lifted, and the perplexity and doubt in her
+blue eyes stirred him.  Without waiting for her answer, he
+leaned forward.
+
+"Say yes!" he urged.  "I don't often ask for favors."
+
+Still she hesitated; then her decision was made for her.
+With a new boldness he touched her arm, drawing her forward
+gently but decisively towards Chilcote's rooms.
+
+In the study a fire burned brightly, the desk was laden with
+papers, the lights were nicely adjusted; even the chairs were
+in their accustomed places.  Loder's senses responded to each
+suggestion.  It seemed but a day since he had seen it last.
+It was precisely as he had left it--the niche needing but the
+man.
+
+To hide his emotion he crossed the floor quickly and drew a
+chair forward.  In less than six hours he had run up and down
+the scale of emotions.  He had looked despair in the face,
+till the sudden sight of Chilcote had lifted him to the skies;
+since then, surprise had assailed him in its strongest form;
+he had known the full meaning of the word "risk"; and from
+every contingency he had come out conqueror.  He bent over the
+chair as he pulled it forward, to hide the expression in his
+eyes.
+
+"Sit down," he said, gently.
+
+Eve moved towards him.  She moved slowly, as if half afraid.
+Many emotions stirred her--distrust, uncertainty, and a
+curious half-dominant, half-suppressed questioning that it was
+difficult to define.  Loder remembered her shrinking coldness,
+her reluctant tolerance on the night of his first coming, and
+his individuality, his certainty of power, kindled afresh.
+Never had he been so vehemently himself; never had Chilcote
+seemed so complete a shadow.
+
+As Eve seated herself, he moved forward and leaned over the
+back of her chair.  The impulse that had filled him in his
+interview with Renwick, that had goaded him as he drove to the
+reception, was dominant again.
+
+"I tried to say something as we drove to the Bramfells'
+to-night," he began.  Like many men who possess eloquence for
+an impersonal cause, he was brusque, even blunt, in the
+stating of his own case.  "May I hark back, and go on from
+where I broke off?"
+
+Eve half turned.  Her face was still puzzled and questioning.
+"Of course."  She sat forward again, clasping her hands.
+
+He looked thoughtfully at the back of her head, at the slim
+outline of her shoulders, the glitter of the diamonds about
+her neck.
+
+"Do you remember the day, three weeks ago, that we talked
+together in this room?  The day a great many things seemed
+possible?"
+
+This time she did not look round.  She kept her gaze upon the
+fire.
+
+"Do you remember?" he persisted, quietly.  In his college days
+men who heard that tone of quiet persistence had been wont to
+lose heart.  Eve heard it now for the first time, and, without
+being aware, answered to it.
+
+"Yes, I remember," she said.
+
+"On that day you believed in me--"  In his earnestness he no
+longer simulated Chilcote; he spoke with his own steady
+reliance.  He saw Eve stir, unclasp and clasp her hands, but
+he went steadily on.  "On that day you saw me in a new light.
+You acknowledged me."  He emphasized the slightly peculiar
+word.  "But since that day"--his voice quickened "since that
+day your feelings have changed--your faith in me has fallen
+away."  He watched her closely; but she made no sign, save to
+lean still nearer to the fire.  He crossed his arms over the
+back of her chair.  "You were justified," he said, suddenly.
+"I've not been--myself since that day."  As he said the words
+his coolness forsook him slightly.  He loathed the necessary
+lie, yet his egotism clamored for vindication.  "All men have
+their lapses," he went on; "there are times--there are days
+and weeks when I--when  my--"  The word "nerves" touched his
+tongue, hung upon it, then died away unspoken.
+
+Very quietly, almost without a sound, Eve had risen and turned
+towards him.  She was standing very straight, her face a
+little pale, the hand that rested on the arm of her chair
+trembling slightly.
+
+"John," she said, quickly, "don't say that word?  Don't say
+that hideous word `nerves'!  I don't feel that I can bear it
+to-night--not just to-night.  Can you understand?"
+
+Loder stepped back.  Without comprehending, he felt suddenly
+and strangely at a loss.  Something in her face struck him
+silent and perplexed.  It seemed that without preparation he
+had stepped upon dangerous ground.  With an undefined
+apprehension he waited, looking at her.
+
+"I can't explain it," she went on with nervous haste, "I can't
+give any reasons, but quite suddenly the--the farce has grown
+unbearable.  I used not to think--used not even to care--but
+suddenly things have changed--or I have changed."  She paused,
+confused and distressed.  "Why should it be?  Why should
+things change?"  She asked the question sharp.  ly, as if in
+appeal against her own incredulity.
+
+Loder turned aside.  He was afraid of the triumph, volcanic
+and irrepressible, that her admission roused.
+
+"Why?" she said again.
+
+He turned slowly back.  "You forget that I'm not a magician,"
+he said, gently.  "I hardly know what you are speaking of."
+
+For a moment she was silent, but in that moment her eyes
+spoke.  Pain, distress, pride, all strove for expression; then
+at last her lips parted.
+
+"Do you say that in seriousness?" she asked.
+
+It was no moment for fencing, and Loder knew it.  "In
+seriousness," he replied, shortly.
+
+"Then I shall speak seriously, too."  Her voice shook slightly
+and the color came back into her face, but the hand on the arm
+of the chair ceased to tremble.  "For more than four years I
+have known that you take drugs--for more than four years I
+have acquiesced in your deceptions--in your meannesses--"
+
+There was an instant's silence.  Then Loder stepped forward.
+
+"You knew--for four years?" he said, very slowly.  For the
+first time that night he remembered Chilcote and forgot
+himself.
+
+Eve lifted her head with a quick gesture--as if, in flinging
+off discretion and silence, she appreciated to the full the
+new relief of speech.
+
+"Yes, I knew.  Perhaps I should have spoken when I first
+surprised the secret, but it's all so past that it's useless
+to speculate now.  It was fate, I suppose.  I was very young,
+you were very unapproachable, and--and we had no love to make
+the way easy."  For a second her glance faltered and she
+looked away.  "A woman's--a girl's--disillusioning is a very
+sad comedy--it should never have an audience."  She laughed a
+little bitterly as she looked back again.  "I saw all the
+deceits, all the subterfuges, all the--lies."  She said the
+word deliberately, meeting his eyes.
+
+Again he thought of Chilcote, but his face paled.
+
+"I saw it all.  I lived with it all till I grew hard and
+indifferent--till I acquiesced in your 'nerves' as readily as
+the rest of the world that hadn't suspected and didn't know."
+Again she laughed nervously.  "And I thought the indifference
+would last forever.  If one lives in a groove for years, one
+gets frozen up; I never felt more frozen than on the night Mr.
+Fraide spoke to me of you--asked me to use my influence; then,
+on that night--"
+
+"Yes.  On that night?"  Loder's voice was tense.
+
+But her excitement had suddenly fallen.  Whether his glance
+had quelled it or whether the force of her feelings had worked
+itself out it was impossible to say, but her eyes had lost
+their resolution.  She stood hesitating for a moment, then she
+turned and moved to the mantel-piece.
+
+"That night you found me--changed?"  Loder was insistent.
+
+"Changed--and yet not changed."  She spoke reluctantly, with
+averted head.
+
+"And what did you think?"
+
+Again she was silent; then again a faint excitement tinged her
+cheeks.
+
+"I thought--" she began.  "It seemed--"  Once more she paused,
+hampered by her own uncertainty, her own sense of puzzling
+incongruity.  "I don't know why I speak like this," she went
+on at last, as if in justification of herself, "or why I want
+to speak.  But a feeling--an extraordinary, incomprehensible
+feeling seems to urge me on.  The same feeling that came to me
+on the day we had tea together--the feeling that made me--that
+almost made me believe--"
+
+"Believe what?"  The words escaped him without volition.
+
+At sound of his voice she turned.  "Believe that a miracle had
+happened," she said--"that you had found strength--had freed
+yourself."
+
+"From morphia?"
+
+"From morphia."
+
+In the silence that followed, Loder lived through a century of
+suggestion and indecision.  His first feeling was for himself,
+but his first clear thought was for Chilcote and their
+compact.  He stood, metaphorically, on a stone in the middle
+of a stream, balancing on one foot, then the other; looking to
+the right bank, then to the left.  At last, as it always did,
+inspiration came to him slowly.  He realized that by one
+plunge he might save both Chilcote and himself!
+
+He crossed quickly to the fireplace and stood by Eve.  "You
+were right in your belief," he said.  "For all that time from
+the night you spoke to me of Fraide to the day you had tea in
+this room--I never touched a drug."
+
+She moved suddenly, and he saw her face.  "John," she said,
+unsteadily, "you--I--I have known you to lie to me--about
+other things."
+
+With a hasty movement he averted his head.  The doubt, the
+appeal in her words shocked him.  The whole isolation of her
+life seemed summed up in the one short sentence.  For the
+instant he forgot Chilcote.  With a reaction of feeling he
+turned to her again.
+
+"Look at me!" he said, brusquely.
+
+She raised her eyes.
+
+"Do you believe I'm speaking the truth?"
+
+She searched his eyes intently, the doubt and hesitancy still
+struggling in her face.
+
+"But the last three weeks?" she said, reluctantly.  "How can
+you ask me to believe?"
+
+He had expected this, and he met it steadily enough;
+nevertheless his courage faltered.  To deceive this woman,
+even to justify himself, had in the last halfhour become
+something sacrilegious.
+
+"The last three weeks must be buried," he said, hurriedly.
+"No man could free himself suddenly from--from a vice."  He
+broke off abruptly.  He hated Chilcote; he hated himself.
+Then Eve's face, raised in distressed appeal, overshadowed all
+scruples.  "You have been silent and patient for years," he
+said, suddenly.  "Can you be patient and silent a little
+longer?"  He spoke without consideration.  He was conscious of
+no selfishness beneath his words.  In the first exercise of
+conscious strength the primitive desire to reduce all elements
+to his own sovereignty submerged every other emotion.  "I
+can't enter into the thing," he said; "like you, I give no
+explanations.  I can only tell you that on the day we talked
+together in this room I was myself--in the full possession of
+my reason, the full knowledge of my own capacities.  The man
+you have known in the last three weeks, the man you have
+imagined in the last four years, is a shadow, an unreality--a
+weakness in human form.  There is a new Chilcote--if you will
+only see him."
+
+Ewe was trembling as he ceased; her face was flushed; there
+was a strange brightness in her eyes She was moved beyond
+herself.
+
+"But the other you--the old you?"
+
+"You must be patient." He looked down into the fire.  "Times
+like the last three weeks will come again--must come again;
+they are inevitable.  When they do come, you must shut your
+eyes--you must blind yourself.  You must ignore them--and me.
+Is it a compact?"  He still avoided her eyes.
+
+She turned to him quietly.  "Yes--if you wish it," she said,
+below her breath.
+
+He was conscious of her glance, but he dared not meet it.  He
+felt sick at the part he was playing, yet he held to it
+tenaciously.
+
+"I wonder if you could do what few men and fewer women are
+capable of?" he asked, at last.  "I wonder if you could learn
+to live in the present?"  He lifted his head slowly and met
+her eyes.  "This is an--an experiment," he went on.  "And,
+like all experiments, it has good phases and bad.  When the
+bad phases come round I--I want you to tell yourself that you
+are not altogether alone in your unhappiness--that I am
+suffering too--in another way."
+
+There was silence when he had spoken, and for a space it
+seemed that Eve would make no response.  Then the last
+surprise in a day of surprises came to him.  With a slight
+stir, a slight, quick rustle of skirts, she stepped forward
+and laid her hand in his.
+
+The gesture was simple and very sweet; her eyes were soft and
+full of light as she raised her face to his, her lips parted
+in unconscious appeal.
+
+There is no surrender so seductive as the surrender of a proud
+woman.  Loder's blood stirred, the undeniable suggestion of
+the moment thrilled and disconcerted him in a tumult of
+thought.  Honor, duty, principle rose in a triple barrier; but
+honor, duty, and principle are but words to a headstrong man.
+Tho full significance of his position came to him as it had
+never come before.  His hand closed on hers; he bent towards
+her, his pulses beating unevenly.
+
+"Eve!" he said.  Then at sound of his voice he suddenly
+hesitated.  It was the voice of a man who has forgotten
+everything but his own existence.
+
+For an instant he stayed motionless; then very quietly he drew
+away from her, releasing her hands.
+
+"No," he said.  "No--I haven't got the right,"
+
+
+
+
+XVIII
+
+
+That night, for almost the first time since he had adopted his
+dual role, Loder slept ill.  He was not a man over whom
+imagination held any powerful sway--his doubts and misgivings
+seldom ran to speculation, upon future possibilities;
+nevertheless, the fact that, consciously or unconsciously, he
+had adopted a new attitude towards Eve came home to him with
+unpleasant force during the hours of darkness; and long before
+the first hint of daylight had slipped through the heavy
+window-curtains he had arranged a plan of action--a plan
+wherein, by the simple method of altogether avoiding her, he
+might soothe his own conscience and safeguard Chilcote's
+domestic interests.
+
+It was a satisfactory if a somewhat negative arrangement, and
+he rose next morning with a feeling that things had begun to
+shape themselves.  But chance sometimes has a disconcerting
+knack of forestalling even our best-planned schemes.  He
+dressed slowly, and descended to his solitary breakfast with
+the pleasant sensation of having put last night out of
+consideration by the turning over of a new leaf; but scarcely
+had he opened Chilcote's letters, scarcely had he taken a
+cursory glance at the morning's newspaper, than it was borne
+in upon him that not only a new leaf, but a whole sheaf of new
+leaves, had been turned in his prospects--by a hand infinitely
+more powerful and arbitrary than his own.  He realized within
+the space of a few moments that the leisure Eve might have
+claimed, the leisure he might have been tempted to devote to
+her, was no longer his to dispose of--being already demanded
+of him from a quarter that allowed of no refusal.
+
+For the first rumbling of the political earthquake that was
+to shake the country made itself audible beyond denial
+on that morning of March 27th, when the news spread
+through England that, in view of the disorganized state
+of the Persian army and the Shah's consequent inability
+to suppress the open insurrection of the border tribes in
+ the north-eastern districts of Meshed, Russia, with a great
+show of magnanimity, had come to the rescue by
+despatching a large armed force from her military station
+at Merv across the Persian frontier to the seat of the
+disturbance.
+
+To many hundreds of Englishmen who read their papers on
+that morning this announcement conveyed bat little.  That
+there is such a country as Persia we all know, that English
+interests predominate in the south and Russian interests
+in the north we have all superficially understood from
+childhood; but in this knowledge, coupled with the fact that
+Persia is comfortably far away, we are apt to rest content.
+It is only to the eyes that see through long-distance glasses,
+the minds that regard the present as nothing more nor less
+than an inevitable link joining the future to the past, that
+this distant, debatable land stands out in its true political
+significance.
+
+To the average reader of news the statement of Russia's move
+seemed scarcely more important than had the first report of
+the border risings in January, but to the men who had watched
+the growth of the disturbance it came charged with portentous
+meaning.  Through the entire ranks of the opposition, from
+Fraide himself downward, it caused a thrill of expectation
+--that peculiar prophetic sensation that every politician has
+experienced at some moment of his career.
+
+In no member of his party did this feeling strike deeper root
+than in Loder.  Imbued with a lifelong interest in the Eastern
+question, specially equipped by personal knowledge to hold and
+proclaim an opinion upon Persian affairs, he read the signs
+and portents with instinctive insight.  Seated at Chilcote's
+table, surrounded by Chilcote's letters and papers, he forgot
+the breakfast that was slowly growing cold, forgot the
+interests and dangers, personal or pleasurable, of the night
+before, while his mental eyes persistently conjured up the map
+of Persia, travelling with steady deliberation from Merv to
+Meshed, from Meshed to Herat, from Herat to the empire of
+India!  For it was not the fact that the Hazaras had risen
+against the Shah that occupied the thinking mind, nor was it
+the fact that Russian and not Persian troops were destined to
+subdue them, but the deeply important consideration that an
+armed Russian force had crossed the frontier and was encamped
+within twenty miles of Meshed-Meshed, upon which covetous
+Russian eyes have rested ever since the days of Peter the
+Great.
+
+So Loder's thoughts ran as he read and reread the news from
+the varying political stand-points, and so they continued to
+run when, some hours later, an urgent telephone message from
+the 'St. George's Gazette' asked him to call at Lakely's
+office.
+
+The message was interesting as well as imperative, and he made
+an instant response.  The thought of Lakely's keen eyes and
+shrewd enthusiasms always possessed strong attractions for his
+own slower temperament, but even had this impetus been
+lacking, the knowledge that at the 'St. George's' offices, if
+anywhere, the true feelings of the party were invariably
+voiced would have drawn him without hesitation.
+
+It was scarcely twelve o'clock when he turned the corner of
+the tall building, but already the keen spirit that Lakely
+everywhere diffused was making itself felt.  Loder smiled to
+himself as his eyes fell on the day's placards with their
+uncompromising headings, and passed onward from the string of
+gayly painted carts drawn up to receive their first
+consignment of the paper to the troop of eager newsboys
+passing in and out of the big swing-doors with their
+piled-up bundles of the early edition; and with a renewed
+thrill of anticipation and energy he passed through the
+doorway and ran up-stairs.
+
+Passing unchallenged through the long corridor that led to
+Lakely's office, he caught a fresh impression of action and
+vitality from the click of the tape machines in the
+subeditors' office, and a glimpse through the open door of the
+subeditors themselves, each occupied with his particular task;
+then without time for further observation he found himself at
+Lakely's door.  Without waiting to knock, as he had felt
+compelled to do on the one or two previous occasions that
+business had brought him there, he immediately turned the
+handle and entered the room.
+
+Editors' offices differ but little in general effect.
+
+Lakely's surroundings were rather more elaborate than is
+usual, as became the dignity of the oldest Tory evening paper,
+but the atmosphere was unmistakable.  As Loder entered he
+glanced up from the desk at which he was sitting, but
+instantly returned to his task of looking through and marking
+the pile of early evening editions that were spread around
+him.  His coat was off and hung on the chair behind him, axed
+he pulled vigorously on a long cigar.
+
+"Hullo!  That's right," he said, laconically.  "Make yourself
+comfortable half a second, while I skim the 'St. Stephen's'."
+
+His salutation pleased Loder.  With a nod of acquiescence he
+crossed the office to the brisk fire that burned in, the
+grate.
+
+For a minute or two Lakely worked steadily, occasionally
+breaking the quiet by an unintelligible remark or a vigorous
+stroke of his pencil.  At last he dropped the paper with a
+gesture of satisfaction and leaned back in his chair.
+
+"Well," he said, "what d'you think of this?  How's this for a
+complication?"
+
+Loder turned round.  "I think," he said, quietly, "that we
+can't overestimate it."
+
+Lakely laughed and took a long pull at his cigar.  "And we
+mustn't be afraid to let the Sefborough crowd know it, eh?"
+He waved his hand to the poster of the first edition that hung
+before his desk.
+
+Loder, following his glance, smiled.
+
+Lakely laughed again.  "They might have known it all along, if
+they'd cared to deduce," he said.  "Did they really believe
+that Russia was going to sit calmly looking across the Heri-Rud
+while the Shah played at mobilizing?  But what became of you
+last night?  We had a regular prophesying of the whole business
+at Bramfell's; the great Fraide looked in for five minutes.  I
+went on with him to the club afterwards and was there when the
+news came in.  'Twas a great night!"
+
+Loder's face lighted up.  "I can imagine it," he said, with an
+unusual touch of warmth.
+
+Lakely watched him intently for a moment.  Then with a quick
+action he leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk.
+
+"It's going to be something more than imagination for you,
+Chilcote," he said, impressively.  "It's going to be solid
+earnest!"  He spoke rapidly and with rather more than his
+usual shrewd decisiveness; then he paused to see the effect of
+his announcement.
+
+Loder was still studying the flaring poster.  At the other's
+words he turned sharply.  Something in Lakely's voice,
+something in his manner, arrested him.  A tinge of color
+crossed his face.
+
+"Reality?" he said.  "What do you mean?"
+
+For a further space his companion watched him; then with a
+rapid movement he tilted back his chair.
+
+"Yes," he said.  "Yes; old Fraide's instincts are never far
+out.  He's quite right.  You're the man!"
+
+Still quietly, but with a strange underglow of excitement,
+Loder left the fire, and, coming forward, took a chair at
+Lakely's desk.
+
+"Do you mind telling me what you're driving at?" he asked, in
+his old, laconic voice.
+
+Lakely still scrutinized him with an air of brisk
+satisfaction; then with a gesture of finality he tossed his
+cigar away.
+
+"My dear chap," he said, "there's going to be a breach
+somewhere--and Fraide says you're the man to step in and fill
+it!  You see, five years ago, when things looked lively on the
+Gulf and the Bundar Abbas business came to light, you did some
+promising work; and a reputation like that sticks to a man
+--even when he turns slacker!  I won't deny that you've slacked
+abominably," he added, as Loder made an uneasy movement, "but
+slacking has different effects.  Some men run to seed, others
+mature.  I had almost put you down on the black list, but I've
+altered my mind in the last two months."
+
+Again Loder stirred in his seat.  A host of emotions were
+stirring in his mind.  Every word wrung from Lakely was
+another stimulus to pride, another subtle tribute to the
+curious force of personality.
+
+"Well?" he said.  "Well?"
+
+Lakely smiled.  "We all know that Sefborough's ministry is
+--well, top-heavy," he said.  "Sefborough is building his card
+house just a story too high.  It's a toss-up what 'll upset
+the balance.  It might be the army, of course, or it might be
+education; but it might quite as well be a matter of foreign
+policy!"
+
+They looked at each other in comprehensive silence.
+
+"You know as well as I that it's not the question of whether
+Russia comes into Persia, but the question of whether Russia
+goes out of Persia when these Hazaras are subdued!  I'll lay
+you what you like, Chilcote, that within one week we hear that
+the risings are suppressed, but that Russia, instead of
+retiring, has advanced those tempting twenty miles and
+comfortably ensconced herself at Meshed--as she ensconced
+herself on the island of Ashurada.  Lakely's nervous,
+energetic figure was braced, his light-blue eyes brightened,
+by the intensity of his interest.
+
+"If this news comes before the Easter recess," he went on,
+"the first nail can be hammered in on the motion for
+adjournment.  And if the right man does it in the right way,
+I'll lay my life 'twill be a nail in Sefborough's coffin."
+
+Loder sat very still.  Overwhelming possibilities had suddenly
+opened before him.  In a moment the unreality of the past
+months had become real; a tangible justification of himself
+and his imposture was suddenly made possible.  In the stress
+of understanding he, too, leaned forward, and, resting his
+elbows on the desk, took his face between his hands.
+
+For a space Lakely made no remark.  To him man and man's moods
+came second in interest to his paper and his party politics.
+That Chilcote should be conscious of the glories he had opened
+up seemed only natural; that he should show that consciousness
+in a becoming gravity seemed only right.  For some seconds he
+made no attempt to disturb him; but at last his own
+irrepressible activity made silence unendurable.  He caught up
+his pencil and tapped impatiently on the desk.
+
+"Chilcote," he said, quickly and with a gleam of sudden
+anxiety, "you're not by any chance doubtful of yourself?"
+
+At sound of his voice Loder lifted his face; it was quite pale
+again, but the energy and resolution that had come into it
+when Lakely first spoke were still to be seen.
+
+"No, Lakely," he said, very slowly, "it's not the sort of
+moment in which a man doubts himself,"
+
+
+
+
+XIX
+
+
+And so it came about that Loder was freed from one
+responsibility to undertake another.  From the morning of
+March 27th, when Lakely had expounded the political programme
+in the offices of the 'St. George's Gazette', to the afternoon
+of April 1st he found himself a central figure in the
+whirlpool of activity that formed itself in Conservative
+circles.
+
+With the acumen for which he was noted, Lakely had touched the
+key-stone of the situation on that morning; and succeeding
+events, each fraught with its own importance, had established
+the precision of his forecast.
+
+Minutely watchful of Russia's attitude, Fraide quietly
+organized his forces and strengthened his position with a
+statesmanlike grasp of opportunity; and to Loder the
+attributes displayed by his leader during those trying days
+formed an endless and absorbing study.  Setting the thought of
+Chilcote aside, ignoring his own position and the risks he
+daily ran, he had fully yielded to the glamour of the moment,
+and in the first freedom of a loose rein he had given
+unreservedly all that he possessed of activity, capacity, and
+determination to the cause that had claimed him.
+
+Singularly privileged in a constant, personal contact with
+Fraide, he learned many valuable lessons of tact and
+organization in those five vital days during which the tactics
+of a whole party hung upon one item of news from a country
+thousands of miles away.  For should Russia subdue the
+insurgent Hazaras and, laden with the honors of the
+peacemaker, retire across the frontier, then the political
+arena would remain undisturbed; but should the all-important
+movement predicted by Lakely become an accepted fact before
+Parliament rose for the Easter recess, then the first blow in
+the fight that would rage during the succeeding session must
+inevitably be struck.  In the mean time it was Fraide's
+difficult position to wait and watch and yet preserve his
+dignity.
+
+It was early in the afternoon of March 29th that Loder, in
+response to a long-standing invitation, lunched quietly with
+the Fraides.  Being delayed by some communications from Wark,
+he was a few minutes late in keeping his appointment, and on
+being shown into the drawing-room found the little group of
+three that was to make up the party already assembled--Fraide,
+Lady Sarah--and Eve.  As he entered the room they ceased to
+speak, and all three turned in his direction.
+
+In the first moment he had a vague impression of responding
+suitably to Lady Sarah's cordial greeting; but he knew that
+immediately and unconsciously his eyes turned to Eve, while a
+quick sense of surprise and satisfaction passed through him at
+sight of her.  For an instant he wondered how she would mark
+his avoidance of her since their last eventful interview; then
+instantly he blamed himself for the passing doubt.  For,
+before all things, he knew her to be a woman of the world.
+
+He took Fraide's outstretched hand; and again he looked
+towards Eve, waiting for her to speak.
+
+She met his glance, but said nothing.  Instead of speaking she
+smiled at him--a smile that was far more reassuring than any
+words, a smile that in a single second conveyed forgiveness,
+approbation, and a warm, almost tender sense of sympathy and
+comprehension.  The remembrance of that smile stayed with him
+long after they were seated at table; and far into the future
+the remembrance of the lunch itself, with its pleasant private
+sense of satisfaction, was destined to return to him in
+retrospective moments.  The delightful atmosphere of the
+Fraides' home life had always been a wonder and an enigma to
+him; but on this day he seemed to grasp its meaning by a new
+light, as he watched Eve soften under its influence and felt
+himself drawn imperceptibly from the position of a speculative
+outsider to that of an intimate.  It was a fresh side to the
+complex, fascinating life of which Fraide was the master
+spirit.
+
+These reflections had grown agreeably familiar to his mind;
+the talk, momentarily diverted into social channels, was
+quietly drifting back to the inevitable question of the
+"situation" that in private moments was never far from their
+lips, when the event that was to mark and separate that day
+from those that had preceded it was unceremoniously thrust
+upon them.
+
+Without announcement or apology, the door was suddenly flung
+open and Lakely entered the room.
+
+His face was brimming with excitement, and his eyes flashed.
+In the first haste of the entry he failed to see that there
+were ladies in the room, And, crossing instantly to Fraide,
+laid an open telegram before him.
+
+"This is official, sir," he said.  Then at last he glanced
+round the table.
+
+"Lady Sarah!" he exclaimed.  "Can you forgive me?  But I'd
+have given a hundred pounds to be the first with this!"  He
+glanced back at Fraide.
+
+Lady Sarah rose and stretched out her hand.  "Mr. Lakely," she
+said, "I more than understand!"  There was a thrill in her
+warm, cordial voice, and her eyes also turned towards her
+husband.
+
+Of the whole party, Fraide alone was perfectly calm.  He sat
+very still, his small, thin figure erect and dignified, as his
+eyes scanned the message that meant so much.
+
+Eve, who had sprung from her seat and passed round the table
+at sound of Lakely's news, was leaning over his shoulder,
+reading the telegram with him.  At the last word she lifted
+her head, her face flushed with excitement.
+
+"How splendid it must be to be a man!" she exclaimed.  And
+without premeditation her eyes and Loder's met.
+
+
+In this manner came the news from Persia, and with it Loder's
+definite call.  In the momentary stress of action it was
+impossible that any thought of Chilcote could obtrude itself.
+Events had followed each other too rapidly, decisive action
+had been too much thrust upon him, to allow of hesitation; and
+it was in this spirit, under this vigorous pressure, that he
+made his attack upon the government on the day that followed
+Fraide's luncheon party.
+
+That indefinable attentiveness, that alert sensation of
+impending storm.  that is so strong an index of the
+parliamentary atmosphere was very keen on that memorable first
+of April.  It was obvious in the crowded benches on both sides
+of the House--in the oneness of purpose that insensibly made
+itself felt through the ranks of the Opposition, and found
+definite expression in Fraide's stiff figure and tightly shut
+lips--in the unmistakable uneasiness that lay upon the
+ministerial benches.
+
+But notwithstanding these indications of battle, the early
+portion of the proceedings was unmarked by excitement, being
+tinged with the purposeless lack of vitality that had of late
+marked all affairs of the Sefborough Ministry; and it was not
+until the adjournment of the House for the Easter recess had
+at last been moved that the spirit of activity hovering in the
+air descended and galvanized the assembly into life.  It was
+then, amid a stir of interest, that Loder slowly rose.
+
+Many curious incidents have marked the speech-making annals of
+the House of Commons, but it is doubtful whether it has ever
+been the lot of a member to hear his own voice raised for the
+first time on a subject of vital interest to his party, having
+been denied all initial assistance of minor questions asked or
+unimportant amendments made.  Of all those gathered together
+in the great building on that day, only one man appreciated
+the difficulty of Loder's position
+--and that man was Loder himself.
+
+He rose slowly and stood silent for a couple of seconds, his
+body braced, his fingers touching the sheaf of notes that lay
+in front of him.  To the waiting House the silence was
+effective.  It might mean over-assurance, or it might mean a
+failure of nerve at a critical moment.  Either possibility had
+a tinge of piquancy.  Moved by the same impulse, fifty pairs
+o  eyes turned upon him with new interest; but up in the
+Ladies' Gallery Eve clasped her hands in sudden apprehension;
+and Fraide, sitting stiffly in his seat, turned and shot one
+swift glance at the man on whom, against prudence and
+precedent, he had pinned his faith.  The glance was swift but
+very searching, and with a characteristic movement of his wiry
+shoulders he resumed his position and his usual grave,
+attentive attitude.  At the same moment Loder lifted his head
+and began to speak.
+
+Here at the outset his inexperience met him.  His voice,
+pitched too low, only reached those directly near him.  It was
+a moment of great strain.  Eve, listening intently, drew a
+long breath of suspense and let her fingers drop apart; the
+sceptical, watchful eyes that faced him, line upon line,
+seemed to flash and brighten with critical interest; only
+Fraide made no change of expression.  He sat placid, serious,
+attentive, with the shadow of a smile behind his eyes.
+
+Again Loder paused, but this time the pause was shorter.  The
+ordeal he had dreaded and waited for was passed and he saw his
+way clearly.  With the old movement of the shoulders he
+straightened himself and once more began to speak.  This time
+his voice rang quietly true and commanding across the floor of
+the House.
+
+No first step can be really great; it must of necessity
+possess more of prophecy than of achievement; nevertheless it
+is by the first step that a man marks the value, not only of
+his cause, but of himself.  Following broadly on the lines
+that tradition has laid down for the Conservative orator,
+Loder disguised rather than displayed the vein of strong,
+persuasive eloquence that was his natural gift.  The occasion
+that might possibly justify such a display of individuality
+might lie with the future, but it had no application to the
+present.  For the moment his duty was to voice his party
+sentiments with as much lucidity, as much logic, and as much
+calm conviction as lay within his capacity.
+
+Standing quietly in Chilcote's place, he was conscious with a
+deep sense of gravity of the peculiarity of his position; and
+perhaps it was this unconscious and unstudied seriousness that
+lent him the tone of weight and judgment so essential to the
+cause he had in hand.  It has always been difficult to arouse
+the interest of the House on matters of British policy in
+Persia.  Once aroused, it may, it is true, reach fever heat
+with remarkable rapidity, but the introductory stages offer
+that worst danger to the earnest speaker--the dread of an
+apathetic audience.  But from this consideration Loder, by his
+sharp consciousness of personal difficulties, was given
+immunity.
+
+Pitching his voice in that quietly masterful tone that beyond
+all others compels attention, he took up his subject and dealt
+with it with dispassionate force.  With great skill he touched
+on the steady southward advance of Russia into Persian
+territory from the distant days when, by a curious irony of
+fate, Russian and British enterprise combined to make entry
+into the country under the sanction of the Grand-Duke of
+Moscovy, to the present hour, when this great power of Russia
+--long since alienated by interests and desires from her former
+co-operator--had taken a step which in the eyes of every
+thinking man must possess a deep significance.  With quiet
+persistence he pointed out the peculiar position of Meshed in
+the distant province of Khorasan; its vast distance from the
+Persian Gulf, round which British interests and influence
+centre, and the consequently alarming position of hundreds of
+traders who, in the security of British sovereignty, are
+fighting their way upward from India, from Afghanistan, even
+from England herself.
+
+Following up his point, he dilated on these subjects of the
+British crown who, cut off from adequate assistance, can only
+turn in personal or commercial peril to the protective power
+of the nearest consulate.  Then, quietly demanding the
+attention of his hearers, he marshalled fact after fact to
+demonstrate the isolation and inadequacy of a consulate so
+situated; the all but arbitrary power of Russia, who in her
+new occupation of Meshed had only two considerations to
+withhold her from open aggression--the knowledge of England as
+a very considerable but also a very distant power; the
+knowledge of Persia as an imminent but wholly impotent factor
+in the case.
+
+Having stated his opinions, he reverted to the motive of his
+speech--his desire to put forward a strong protest against the
+adjournment of the House without an assurance from the
+government that immediate measures would be taken to safeguard
+British interests in Meshed and throughout the province of
+Khorasan.
+
+
+The immediate outcome of Loder's speech was all that his party
+had desired.  The effect on the House had been marked; and
+when, no satisfactory response coming to his demand, he had in
+still more resolute and insistent terms called for a division
+on the motion for adjournment, the result had been an
+appreciable fall in the government majority.
+
+To Loder himself, the realization that he had at last
+vindicated and justified himself by individual action had a
+peculiar effect.  His position had been altered in one
+remarkable particular.  Before this day he alone had known
+himself to be strong; now the knowledge was shared by others
+and he was human enough to be susceptible to the change.
+
+The first appreciation of it came immediately after the
+excitement of the division, when Fraide, singling him out,
+took his arm and pressed it affectionately.
+
+"My dear Chilcote," he said, "we are all proud of you!" Then,
+looking up into his face, he added, in a graver tone, "But
+keep your mind upon the future; never be blinded by the
+present--however bright it seems."
+
+At the touch of his hand, at the spontaneous approval of his
+first words, Loder's pride thrilled, and in a vehement rush of
+ambition his senses answered to the praise.  Then, as Fraide
+in all unconsciousness added his second sentence, the hot glow
+of feeling suddenly chilled.  In a sweep of intuitive reaction
+the meaning and the danger of his falsely real position
+extinguished his excitement and turned his triumph cold.  With
+an involuntary gesture he withdrew his arm.
+
+"You're very good, sir," he said.  "And you're very right.  We
+never should forget that there is--a future."
+
+The old man glanced up, surprised by the tone.
+
+"Quite so, Chilcote," he said, kindly.  "But we only advise
+those in whom we believe to look towards it.  Shall we find my
+wife?  I know she will want to bear you home with us."
+
+But Loder's joy in himself and his achievement had dropped
+from him.  He shrank suddenly from Lady Sarah's
+congratulations and Eve's warm, silent approbation.
+
+"Thanks, sir," he said, "but I don't feel fit for society.  A
+touch of my--nerves, I suppose."  He laughed shortly.  "But do
+you mind saying to Eve that I hope I have--satisfied her?" he
+added this as if in half-reluctant after-thought.  Then, with
+a short pressure of Fraide's hand, he turned, evading the many
+groups that waited to claim him, and passed out of the House
+alone.
+
+Hailing a cab, he drove to Grosvenor Square.  All the
+exaltation of an hour ago had turned to ashes.  His excitement
+had found its culmination in a sense of futility and
+premonition.
+
+He met no one in the hall or on the stairs of Chilcote's
+house, and on entering the study he found that also deserted.
+Greening had been among the most absorbed of those who had
+listened to his speech.  Passing at once into the room, he
+crossed as if by instinct to the desk, and there halted.  On
+the top of some unopened letters lay the significant yellow
+envelope of a telegram--the telegram that in an unformed,
+subconscious way had sprung to his expectation on the moment
+of Fraide's congratulation.
+
+Very quietly he picked it up, opened and read it, and, with
+the automatic caution that had become habitual, carried it
+across the room and dropped it in the fire.  This done, he
+returned to the desk, read the letters that awaited Chilcote,
+and, scribbling the necessary notes upon the margins, left
+them in readiness for Greening.  Then, moving with the same
+quiet suppression, he passed from the room, down the stairs,
+and out into the street by the way he had come.
+
+
+
+XX
+
+
+On the fifth day after the momentous 1st of April on which he
+had recalled Loder and resumed his own life Chilcote left his
+house and walked towards Bond Street.  Though the morning was
+clear and the air almost warm for the time of year, he was
+buttoned into a long overcoat and was wearing a muffler and a
+pair of doeskin gloves.  As he passed along the street he kept
+close to the house fronts to avoid the sun that was everywhere
+stirring the winterbound town, like a suffusion of young blood
+through old veins.  He avoided the warmth because in this
+instance warmth meant light, but as he moved he shivered
+slightly from time to time with the haunting, permeating cold
+that of late had become his persistent shadow.
+
+He was ill at case as he hurried forward.  With each
+succeeding day of the old life the new annoyances, the new
+obligations became more hampering.  Before his compact with
+Loder this old life had been a net about his feet; now the
+meshes seemed to have narrowed, the net itself to have spread
+till it smothered his whole being.  His own household--his own
+rooms, even--offered no sanctuary.  The presence of another
+personality tinged the atmosphere.  It was preposterous, but
+it was undeniable.  The lay figure that he had set in his
+place had proved to be flesh and blood--had usurped his life,
+his position, his very personality, by sheer right of
+strength.  As he walked along Bond Street in the first
+sunshine of the year, jostled by the well-dressed crowd, he
+felt a pariah.
+
+He revolted at the new order of things, but the revolt was a
+silent one-the iron of expediency had entered into his soul.
+He dared not jeopardize Loder's position, because he dared not
+dispense with Loder.  The door that guarded his vice drew him
+more resistlessly with every indulgence, and Loder's was the
+voice that called the "Open Sesame!"
+
+He walked on aimlessly.  He had been but five days at home,
+and already the quiet, grass-grown court of Clifford's Inn,
+the bare staircase, the comfortless privacy of Loder's rooms
+seemed a haven of refuge.  The speed with which this hunger
+had returned frightened him.
+
+He walked forward rapidly and without encountering a check.
+Then, suddenly, the spell was broken.  From the slowly moving,
+brilliantly dressed throng of people some one called him by
+his name; and turning he saw Lillian Astrupp.
+
+She was stepping from the door of a jeweller's, and as he
+turned she paused, holding out her hand.
+
+"The very person I would have wished to see!" she exclaimed.
+"Where have you been these hundred years?  I've heard of
+nobody but you since you've turned politician and ceased to be
+a mere member of Parliament!"  She laughed softly.  The laugh
+suited the light spring air, as she herself suited the
+pleasant, superficial scene.
+
+He took her hand and held it, while his eyes travelled from
+her delicate face to her pale cloth gown, from her soft furs
+to the bunch of roses fastened in her muff, The sight of her
+was a curious relief.  Her cool, slim fingers were so casual,
+yet so clinging, her voice and her presence were so redolent
+of easy, artificial things.
+
+"How well you look!" he said, involuntarily.
+
+Again she laughed.  "That's my prerogative," she responded,
+lightly.  "But I was serious in being glad to see you.
+Sarcastic people are always so intuitive.  I'm looking for
+some one with intuition."
+
+Chilcote glanced up.  "Extravagant again?" he said, dryly.
+
+She smiled at him sweetly.  "Jack!" she murmured with slow
+reproach.
+
+Chilcote laughed quickly.  "I understand.  You've changed your
+Minister of Finance.  I'm wanted in some other direction."
+
+This time her reproach was expressed by a glance.  "You are
+always wanted," she said.
+
+The words seemed to rouse him again to the shadowy
+self-distrust that the sight of her had lifted.
+
+"It's--it's delightful to meet you like this," he began, "and
+I wish the meeting wasn't momentary.  But I'm--I'm rather
+pressed for time.  You must let me come round one afternoon
+--or evening, when you're alone."  He fumbled for a moment
+with the collar of his coat, and glanced furtively upward
+towards Oxford Street.
+
+But again Lillian smiled--this time to herself.  If she
+understood anything on earth it was Chilcote and his moods.
+
+"If one may be careless of anything, Jack," she said, lightly,
+"surely it's of time.  I can imagine being pressed for
+anything else in the world.  If it's an appointment you're
+worrying about, a motor goes ever so much faster than a cab--"
+She looked at him tentatively, her head slightly on one side,
+her muff raised till the roses and some of the soft fur
+touched her cheek.
+
+She looked very charming and very persuasive as Chilcote
+glanced back.  Again she seemed to represent a respite
+--something graceful and subtle in a world of oppressive
+obligations.  His eyes strayed from her figure to the smart
+motor-car drawn up beside the curb.
+
+She saw the glance.  "Ever so much quicker," she insinuated;
+and, smiling again, she stepped forward from the door of the
+shop.  After a second's indecision Chilcote followed her.
+
+The waiting car had three seats--one in front for the
+chauffeur, two vis-a-vis at the back, offering pleasant
+possibilities of a tete-a-tete.
+
+"The Park--and drive slowly," Lillian ordered, as she stepped
+inside, motioning Chilcote to the seat opposite.
+
+They moved up Bond Street smoothly and rapidly.  Lillian was
+absorbed in the passing traffic until the Marble Arch was
+reached; then, as they glided through the big gates, she
+looked across at her companion.  He had turned up the collar
+of his coat, though the wind was scarcely perceptible, and
+buried, himself in it to the ears.
+
+"It is extraordinary!" she exclaimed, suddenly, as her eyes
+rested on his face.  It was seldom that she felt drawn to
+exclamation.  She was usually too indolent to show surprise.
+But now the feeling was called forth before she was aware.
+
+Chilcote looked up.  "What's extraordinary?" he said,
+sensitively.
+
+She leaned forward for an instant and touched his hand.
+
+"Bear!" she said, teasingly.  "Did I rub your fur the wrong
+way?"  Then, seeing his expression, she tactfully changed her
+tone.  "I'll explain.  It was the same thing that struck me
+the night of Blanche's party--when you looked at me over
+Leonard Kaine's head.  You remember?"  She glanced away from
+him across the Park to where the grass was already showing
+greener.
+
+Chilcote felt ill at ease.  Again he put his hand to his coat
+collar.
+
+"Oh yes," he said, hastily--"yes."  He wished now that he had
+questioned Loder more closely on the proceedings of that
+party.  It seemed to him, on looking back, that Loder had
+mentioned nothing on the day of their last exchange but the
+political complications that absorbed his mind.
+
+"I couldn't explain then," Lillian went on.  "I couldn't
+explain before a crowd of people that it wasn't your dark head
+showing over Leonard's red one that surprised me, but the most
+wonderful, the most extraordinary likeness--" She paused.
+
+The car was moving slower; there was a delight in the easy
+motion through the fresh, early air.  But Chilcote's
+uneasiness had been aroused.  He no longer felt soothed.
+
+"What likeness?" he asked, sharply.
+
+She turned to him easily.  "Oh, a likeness I have noticed
+before," she said.  "A likeness that always seemed strange,
+but that suddenly became incredible at Blanche's party."
+
+He moved quickly.  "Likenesses are an illusion," he said, "a
+mere imagination of the brain!"  His manner was short; his
+annoyance seemingly out of all proportion to its cause.
+Lillian looked at him afresh in slightly interested surprise.
+
+"Yet not so very long ago, you yourself--" she began.
+
+"Nonsense!" he broke in.  "I've always denied likenesses.
+Such things don't really exist.  Likeness-seeing is purely an
+individual matter--a preconception."  He spoke fast; he was
+uneasy under the cool scrutiny of her green eyes.  And with a
+sharp attempt at self-control and reassurance he altered his
+voice.  "After all, we're being very stupid!" he exclaimed.
+"We're worrying over something that doesn't exist."
+
+Lillian was still lazily interested.  To her own belief, she
+had seen Chilcote last on the night of her sister's reception.
+Then she had been too preoccupied to notice either his manner
+or his health, though superficially it had lingered in her
+mind that he had seemed unusually reliant, unusually well on
+that night.  A remembrance of the impression came to her now
+as she studied his face, upon which imperceptibly and yet
+relentlessly his vice was setting its mark--in the dull
+restlessness of eye, the unhealthy sallowness of skin.
+
+Some shred of her thought, some suggestion of the comparison
+running through her mind, must have shown in her face, for
+Chilcote altered his position with a touch of uneasiness.  He
+glanced away across the long sweep of tan-covered drive
+stretching between the trees; then he glanced furtively back.
+
+"By-the-way," he said, quickly, "you wanted me for something?"
+The memory of her earlier suggestion came as a sudden boon.
+
+She lifted her muff again and smelled her roses thoughtfully.
+"Oh, it was nothing, really," she said.  "You sarcastic people
+give very shrewd suggestions sometimes, and I've been rather
+wanting a suggestion on an--an adventure that I've had." She
+looked down at her flowers with a charmingly attentive air.
+
+But Chilcote's restlessness had increased.  Looking up, she
+suddenly caught the expression, and her own face changed.
+
+"My dear Jack," she said, softly, "what a bore I am!  Let's
+forget tedious things--and enjoy ourselves."  She leaned
+towards him caressingly with an air of concern and reproach.
+
+The action was not without effect.  Her soothing voice, her
+smile, her almost affectionate gesture, each carried weight.
+With a swift return of assurance he responded to her tone.
+
+"Right!" he said.  "Right!  We will enjoy ourselves!"  He
+laughed quickly, and again with a conscious movement lifted
+his hand to his muffler.
+
+"Then we'll postpone the advice?" Lillian laughed, too.
+
+"Yes.  Right!  We'll postpone it."  The word pleased him and
+he caught at it.  "We won't bother about it now, but we won't
+shelve it altogether.  We'll postpone it."
+
+"Exactly." She settled herself more comfortably.  "You'll dine
+with me one night--and we can talk it out then.  I see so
+little of you nowadays," she added, in a lower voice.
+
+"My dear girl, you're unfair!" Chilcote's spirits had risen;
+he spoke rapidly, almost pleasantly.  "It isn't I who keep
+away--it's the stupid affairs of the world that keep me.  I'd
+be with you every hour of the twelve if I had my way."
+
+She looked up at the bare trees.  Her expression was a
+delightful mixture of amusement, satisfaction, and scepticism.
+"Then you will dine?" she said at last.
+
+"Certainly."  His reaction to high spirits carried him
+forward.
+
+"How nice!  Shall we fix a day?"
+
+"A day?  Yes.  Yes--if you like."  He hesitated for an
+instant, then again the impulse of the previous moment
+dominated his other feeling.  "Yes," he said, quickly.  "Yes.
+After all, why not fix it now?"  With a sudden inclination
+towards amiability he opened his overcoat, thrust his hand
+into an inner pocket, and drew out his engagement-book--the
+same long, narrow book fitted with two pencils that Loder had
+scanned so interestedly on his first morning at Grosvenor
+Square.  He opened it, turning the pages rapidly.  "What day
+shall it be?  Thursday's full--and Friday--and Saturday.  What
+a bore!" He still talked fast.
+
+Lillian leaned across.  "What a sweet book!" she said.  "But
+why the blue crosses?"  She touched one of the pages with her
+gloved finger.
+
+Chilcote jerked the book, then laughed with a touch of
+embarrassment.  "Oh, the crosses?  Merely to remind me that
+certain 'appointments must be kept.  You know my beastly
+memory!  But what about the day?  Shall we fix the day?"  His
+voice was in control, but mentally her trivial question had
+disturbed and jarred him.  "What day shall we say?" he
+repeated.  "Monday in next week?"
+
+Lillian glanced up with a faint exclamation of disappointment.
+"How horribly faraway!"  She spoke with engaging petulance,
+and, leaning forward afresh, drew the book from Chilcote's
+hand.  "What about to-morrow?" she exclaimed, turning back a
+page.  "Why not to-morrow?  I knew I saw a blank space."
+
+"To-morrow!  Oh, I--I--"  He stopped.          i
+
+"Jack!" Her voice dropped.  It was true that she desired
+Chilcote's opinion on her adventure, for Chilcote's opinion on
+men and manners had a certain bitter shrewdness; but the
+exercise of her own power added a point to the desire.  If the
+matter had ended with the gain or loss of a tete-a-tete with
+him, it is probable that, whatever its utility, she would not
+have pressed it, but the underlying motive was the stronger.
+Chilcote had been a satellite for years, and it was unpleasant
+that any satellite should drop away into space.
+
+"Jack!" she said again, in a lower and still more effective
+tone; and, lifting her muff, she buried her face in her
+flowers.  "I suppose I shall have to dine and go to a
+music-hall with Leonard--or stay at home by myself," she
+murmured, looking out across the trees.
+
+Again Chilcote glanced over the long, tan-strewn ride.  They
+had made the full circuit of the park.
+
+"It's tiresome being by one's self," she murmured.
+
+For a while he was irresponsive, then slowly his eyes returned
+to her face.  He watched her for a second, and, leaning
+quickly towards her, he took his book and scribbled something
+in the vacant space.
+
+She watched him interestedly; her face lighted up, and she
+laid aside her muff.
+
+"Dear Jack!" she said.  "How very sweet of you!"
+
+Then, as he held the book towards her, her face fell.  "Dine
+33 Cadogan Gardens, 8 o'c.  Talk with L.," she read.  "Why,
+you've forgotten the essential thing!"
+
+He looked up.  "The essential thing?"
+
+She smiled.  "The blue cross," she said.  "Isn't it worth even
+a little one?"
+
+The tone was very soft.  Chilcote yielded.
+
+"You have the blue pencil," he said, in sudden response to her
+mood.
+
+She glanced up in quiet pleasure at her Success, and, with a
+charming affectation of seriousness, marked the engagement
+with a big cross.  At the same moment the car slackened speed,
+as the chauffeur waited for further orders.
+
+Lillian shut the engagement-book and handed it back.  "Where
+can I drop you?" she asked.  "At the club?"
+
+The question recalled him to a sense of present things.  He
+thrust the book into his pocket and glanced about him.
+
+They had paused by Hyde Park corner.  The crowd of horses and
+carriages had thinned as the hour of lunch drew near, and the
+wide roadway of the park had an air of added space.  The
+suggested loneliness affected him.  The tall trees, still
+bereft of leaves, and the colossal gateway incomprehensively
+stirred the sense of mental panic that sometimes seized him in
+face of vastness of space or of architecture.  In one moment,
+Lillian, the appointment he had just made, the manner of its
+making--all left him.  The world was filled with his own
+personality, his own immediate inclinations.
+
+"Don't bother about me!" he said, quickly.  "I can get out
+here.  You've been very good.  It's been a delightful
+morning."  With a hurried pressure of her fingers he rose and
+stepped from the car.
+
+Reaching the ground, he paused for a moment and raised his
+hat; then, without a second glance, he turned and walked
+rapidly away.
+
+Lillian sat watching him meditatively.  She saw him pass
+through the gateway, saw him hail a hansom, then she
+remembered the waiting chauffeur.
+
+
+
+
+XXI
+
+
+On the same day that Chilcote had parted with Lillian--but at
+three o'clock in the afternoon--Loder, dressed in Chilcote's
+clothes and with Chilcote's heavy overcoat slung over his arm,
+walked from Fleet Street to Grosvenor Square.  He walked
+steadily, neither slowly nor yet fast.  The elation of his
+last journey over the same ground was tempered by feelings he
+could not satisfactorily bracket even to himself.  There was
+less of vehement elation and more of matured determination in
+his gait and bearing than there had been on that night, though
+the incidents of which they were the outcome were very
+complex.
+
+On reaching Chilcote's house he passed up-stairs; but, still
+following the routine of his previous return, he did not halt
+at Chilcote's door, but moved onward towards Eve's
+sitting-room and there paused.
+
+In that pause his numberless irregular thoughts fused into
+one.
+
+He had the same undefined sense of standing upon sacred ground
+that had touched him on the previous occasion, but the outcome
+of the sensation was different.  This time he raised his hand
+almost immediately and tapped on the door.
+
+He waited, but no voice responded to his knock.  With a sense
+of disappointment he knocked again; then, pressing his
+determination still further, he turned the handle and entered
+the room.
+
+No private room is without meaning--whether trivial or the
+reverse.  In a room, perhaps more even than in speech, in
+look, or in work, does the impress of the individual make
+itself felt.  There, on the wax of outer things, the inner
+self imprints its seal-enforces its fleeting claim to separate
+individuality.  This thought, with its arresting interest,
+made Loder walk slowly, almost seriously, half-way across the
+room and then pause to study his surroundings.
+
+The room was of medium size--not too large for comfort and not
+too small for ample space.  At a first impression it struck
+him as unlike any anticipation of a woman's sanctum.  The
+walls panelled in dark wood; the richly bound books; the
+beautifully designed bronze ornaments; even the flowers, deep
+crimson and violet-blue in tone, had an air of sombre harmony
+that was scarcely feminine.  With a strangely pleasant
+impression he realized this, and, following his habitual
+impulse, moved slowly forward towards the fireplace and there
+paused, his elbow resting on the mantel-piece.
+
+He had scarcely settled comfortably into his position,
+scarcely entered on his second and more comprehensive study of
+the place, than the arrangement of his mind was altered by the
+turning of the handle and the opening of the door.
+
+The new-comer was Eve herself.  She was dressed in outdoor
+clothes, and walked into the room quickly; then, as Loder had
+done, she too paused.
+
+The gesture, so natural and spontaneous, had a peculiar
+attraction; as she glanced up at him, her face alight with
+inquiry, she seemed extraordinarily much the owner and
+designer of her surroundings.  She was framed by them as
+naturally and effectively as her eyes and her face were framed
+by her black hair.  For one moment he forgot that his presence
+demanded explanation; the next she had made explanation
+needless.  She had been looking at him intently; now she came
+forward slowly.
+
+"John?" she said, half in appeal, half in question.
+
+He took a step towards her.  "Look at me," he said, quietly
+and involuntarily.  In the sharp desire to establish himself
+in her regard he forgot that her eyes had never left his face.
+
+But the incongruity of the words did not strike her.  "Oh!"
+she exclaimed, "I--I believe I _knew_, directly I saw you
+here."  The quick ring of life vibrating in her tone surprised
+him.  But he had other thoughts more urgent than surprise.
+
+In the five days of banishment just lived through, the need
+for a readjustment of his position with regard to her had come
+to him forcibly.  The memory of the night when weakness and he
+had been at perilously close quarters had returned to him
+persistently and uncomfortably, spoiling the remembrance of
+his triumph.  It had been well enough to smother the thought
+of that night in days of work.  But had the ignoring of it
+blotted out the weakness?  Had it not rather thrown it into
+bolder relief?  A man strong in his own strength does not turn
+his back upon temptation; he faces and quells it.  In the
+solitary days in Clifford's Inn, in the solitary night-hours
+spent in tramping the city streets, this had been the
+conviction that had recurred again and again, this the problem
+to which, after much consideration, he had found a solution
+--satisfactory at least to himself.  When next Chilcote called
+him--It was notable that he had used the word "when" and not
+"if." When next Chilcote called him he would make a new
+departure.  He would no longer avoid Eve; he would
+successfully prove to himself that one interest and one alone
+filled his mind--the pursuance of Chilcote's political career.
+So does man satisfactorily convince himself against himself.
+He had this intention fully in mind as he came forward now.
+
+"Well," he said, slowly, "has it been very hard to have faith
+--these last five days?"  It was not precisely the tone he had
+meant to adopt; but one must begin.
+
+Eve turned at his words.  Her eyes were brimming with life,
+her cheeks still touched to a deep, soft color by the keenness
+of the wintry air.
+
+"No," she answered, with a shy, responsive touch of
+confidence.  "I seemed to keep on believing.  You know
+converts make the best devotees."  She laughed with slight
+embarrassment, and glanced up at him.  Something in the blue
+of her eyes reminded him unexpectedly of spring skies--full of
+youth and promise.
+
+He moved abruptly, and crossed the room towards the window.
+"Eve," he said, without looking round, "I want your help."
+
+He heard the faint rustling of her dress as she turned towards
+him, and he knew that he had struck the right chord.  All true
+women respond to an appeal for aid as steel answers to the
+magnet.  He could feel her expectancy in the silence.
+
+"You know--we all know--that the present moment is very vital.
+That it's impossible to deny the crisis in the air.  Nobody
+feels it more than I do--nobody is more exorbitantly keen to
+have a share--a part, when the real fight comes--" He stopped;
+then he turned slowly and their eyes met.  "If a man is to
+succeed in such a desire," he went on, deliberately, "he must
+exclude all others--he must have one purpose, one interest,
+one thought.  He must forget that--"
+
+Eve lifted her head quickly.  "--that he has a wife," she
+finished, gently.  "I think I understand."
+
+There was no annoyance in her face or voice, no suggestion of
+selfishness or of hurt vanity.  She had read his meaning with
+disconcerting clearness, and responded with disconcerting
+generosity.  A sudden and very human dissatisfaction with his
+readjustment scheme fell upon Loder.  Opposition is the whip
+to action; a too-ready acquiescence the slackened rein.
+
+"Did I say that?" he asked, quickly.  The tone was almost
+Chilcote's.
+
+She glanced up; then a sudden, incomprehensible smile lighted
+up her face.
+
+"You didn't say, but you thought," she answered, gravely.
+"Thoughts are the same as words to a woman.  That's why we are
+so unreasonable."  Again she smiled.  Some idea, baffling and
+incomprehensible to Loder, was stirring in her mind.
+
+Conscious of the impression, he moved still nearer.  "You jump
+to conclusions," he said, abruptly.  "What I meant to imply--"
+
+"--was precisely what I've understood."  Again she finished
+his sentence.  Then she laughed softly.  "How very wise, but
+how very, very foolish men are!  You come to the conclusion
+that because a woman is--is interested in you she is going to
+hamper you in some direction, and after infinite pains you
+summon all your tact and you set about saving the situation."
+
+There was interest, even a touch of amusement, in her tone,
+her eyes were still fixed upon his in an indefinable glance.
+"You think you are being very diplomatic," she went on,
+quietly, "but in reality you are being very transparent.  The
+woman reads the whole of your meaning in your very first
+sentence--if she hasn't known it before you began to speak."
+
+Again Loder made an interruption, but again she checked him.
+"No," she said, still smiling.  "You should never attempt such
+a task.  Shall I tell you why?"
+
+He stood silent, puzzled and interested.
+
+"Because," she said, quickly, "when a woman really is
+--interested, the man's career ranks infinitely higher in her
+eyes than any personal desire for power."
+
+For a moment their eyes met, then abruptly Loder looked away.
+She had gauged his intentions incorrectly, yet with
+disconcerting insight.  Again the suggestion of an unusual
+personality below the serenity of her manner recurred to his
+imagination.
+
+With an impulse altogether foreign to him he lifted his head
+and again met her glance.  Then at last he spoke, but only two
+words.  "Forgive me!" he said, with simple, direct sincerity.
+
+
+
+
+XXII
+
+
+After his interview with Eve, Loder retired to the study and
+spent the remaining hours of the day and the whole span of the
+evening in work.  At one o'clock, still feeling fresh in mind
+and body, he dismissed Greening and passed into Chilcote's
+bedroom.  The interview with Eve, though widely different from
+the one he had anticipated, had left him stimulated and alert.
+In the hours that followed it there had been an added anxiety
+to put his mind into harness, an added gratification in
+finding it answer to the rein.
+
+A pleasant sense of retrospection settled upon him as he
+slowly undressed; and a pleasant sense of interest touched him
+as, crossing to the dressing-table, he caught sight of
+Chilcote's engagement-book--taken with other things from the
+suit he had changed at dinner-time and carefully laid aside by
+Renwick.
+
+He picked it up and slowly turned the pages.  It always held
+the suggestion of a lottery--this dipping into another man's
+engagements and drawing a prize or a blank.  It was a
+sensation that even custom had not dulled.
+
+At first he turned the pages slowly, then by degrees his
+fingers quickened.  Beyond the fact that this present evening
+was free, he knew nothing of his promised movements.  The
+abruptness of Chilcote's arrival at Clifford's Inn in
+the afternoon had left no time for superfluous questions.  He
+skimmed the writing with a touch of interested haste, then all
+at once he paused and smiled.
+
+"Big enough for a tombstone!" he said below his breath as his
+eyes rested on a large blue cross.  Then he smiled again and
+held the book to the light.
+
+"Dine 33 Cadogan Gardens, 8 o'c.  Talk with L," he read, still
+speaking softly to himself.
+
+He stood for a moment pondering on the entry, then once more
+his glance reverted to the cross.
+
+"Evidently meant it to be seen," he mused; "but why the deuce
+isn't he more explicit?"  As he spoke, a look of comprehension
+suddenly crossed his face and the puzzled frown between his
+eyebrows cleared away.
+
+With a feeling of satisfaction he remembered Lakely's frequent
+and pressing suggestion that he should dine with him at
+Cadogan Gardens and discuss the political outlook.
+
+Lakely must have written during his absence, and Chilcote,
+having marked the engagement, felt no further responsibility.
+The invitation could scarcely have been verbal, as Chilcote,
+he knew, had lain very low in the five days of his return
+home.
+
+So he argued, as he stood with the book still open in his
+hands, the blue cross staring imperatively from the white
+paper.  And from the argument rose thoughts and suggestions
+that seethed in his mind long after the lights had been
+switched off, long after the fire had died down and he had
+been left wrapped in darkness in the great canopied bed.
+
+And so it came about that he took his second false step.  Once
+during the press of the next morning's work it crossed his
+mind to verify his convictions by a glance at the directory.
+But for once the strong wish that evolves a thought conquered
+his caution.  His work was absorbing; the need of verification
+seemed very small.  He let the suggestion pass.
+
+At seven o'clock he dressed carefully.  His mind was full of
+Lakely and of the possibilities the night might hold; for more
+than once before, the weight of the 'St. George's Gazette',
+with Lakely at its back, had turned the political scales.  To
+be marked by him as a coming man was at any time a favorable
+portent; to be singled out by him at the present juncture was
+momentous.  A thrill of expectancy, almost of excitement,
+passed through him as he surveyed his appearance preparatory
+to leaving the house.
+
+Passing down-stairs, he moved at once to the hall door; but
+almost as his hand touched it he halted, attracted by a
+movement on the landing above him.  Turning, he saw Eve.
+
+She was standing quite still, looking down upon him as she had
+looked once before.  As their eyes met, she changed her
+position hastily.
+
+"You are going out?" she asked.  And it struck Loder quickly
+that there was a suggestion, a shadow of disappointment in the
+tone of her voice.  Moved by the impression, he responded with
+unusual promptness.
+
+"Yes," he said.  "I'm dining out--dining with Lakely."
+
+She watched him intently while he spoke; then, as the meaning
+of his words reached her, her whole face brightened.
+
+"With Mr. Lakely?" she said.  "Oh, I'm glad--very glad.  It is
+quite--quite another step."  She smiled with a warm, impulsive
+touch of sympathy.
+
+Loder, looking up at her, felt his senses stir.  At sound of
+her words his secret craving for success quickened to stronger
+life.  The man whose sole incentive lies within may go forward
+coldly and successfully; but the man who grasps a double
+inspiration, who, even unconsciously, is impelled by another
+force, has a stronger impetus for attack, a surer, more vital
+hewing power.  Still watching her, he answered
+instinctively--
+
+"Yes," he said, slowly, "a long step."  And, with a smile of
+farewell, he turned, opened the door, and passed into the
+road.
+
+The thrill of that one moment was still warm as he reached
+Cadogan Gardens and mounted the steps of No. 33--so vitally
+warm that he paused for an instant before pressing the
+electric bell.  Then at last, dominated by anticipation, he
+turned and raised his hand.
+
+The action was abrupt, and it was only as his fingers pressed
+the bell that a certain unexpectedness, a certain want of
+suitability in the aspect of the house, struck him.  The door
+was white, the handle and knocker were of massive silver.  The
+first seemed a disappointing index of Lakely's private taste,
+the second a ridiculous temptation to needy humanity.  He
+looked again at the number of the house, but it stared back at
+him convincingly.  Then the door opened.
+
+So keen was his sense of unfitness that, still trying to fuse
+his impression of Lakely with the idea of silver
+door-fittings, he stepped into the hall without the usual
+preliminary question.  Suddenly realizing the necessity, he
+turned to the servant; but the man forestalled him:
+
+"Will you come to the white room, sir?  And may I take your
+coat?"
+
+The smooth certainty of the man's manner surprised him.  It
+held another savor of disappointment--seeming as little in
+keeping with the keen, business-like Lakely as did the house.
+Still struggling with his impression, he allowed himself to be
+relieved of his hat and coat and in silence ushered up the
+shallow staircase.
+
+As the last step was reached it came to him again to mention
+his host's name; but simultaneously with the suggestion the
+servant stepped forward with a quick, silent movement and
+threw open a door.
+
+"Mr. Chilcote!" he announced, in a subdued, discreet voice.
+
+Loder's first impression was of a room that seemed unusually
+luxurious, soft, and shadowed.  Then all impression of
+inanimate things left him suddenly.
+
+For the fraction of a second he stood in the door-way, while
+the room seemed emptied of everything, except a figure that
+rose slowly from a couch before the fire at sound of
+Chilcote's name; then, with a calmness that to himself seemed
+incredible, he moved forward into the room.
+
+He might, of course, have beaten a retreat and obviated many
+things; but life is full of might-have-beens, and retreat
+never presents itself agreeably to a strong man.  His impulse
+was to face the difficulty, and he acted on the impulse.
+
+Lillian had risen slowly; and as he neared her she held out
+her hand.
+
+"Jack!" she exclaimed, softly.  "How sweet of you to
+remember!"
+
+The voice and words came to him with great distinctness,
+and as they came one uncertainty passed forever from his mind
+--the question as to what relation she and Chilcote held to
+each other.  With the realization came the thought of Eve, and
+in the midst of his own difficulty his face hardened.
+
+Lillian ignored the coldness.  Taking his hand, she smiled.
+"You're unusually punctual," she said.  "But your hands are
+cold.  Come closer to the fire."
+
+Loder was not sensible that his hands were cold, but he
+suffered himself to be drawn forward.
+
+One end of the couch was in firelight, the other in shadow.
+By a fortunate arrangement of chance Lillian selected the
+brighter end for herself and offered the other to her guest.
+With a quick sense of respite he accepted it.  At least he
+could sit secure from detection while he temporized with fate.
+
+For a moment they sat silent, then Lillian stirred.  "Won't
+you smoke?" she asked.
+
+Everything in the room seemed soft and enervating--the subdued
+glow of the fire, the smell of roses that hung about the air,
+and, last of all, Lillian's slow, soothing voice.  With a
+sense of oppression he stiffened his shoulders and sat
+straighter in his place.
+
+"No," he said, "I don't think I shall smoke."
+
+She moved nearer to him.  "Dear Jack," she said, pleadingly,
+"don't say you're in a bad mood.  Don't say you want to
+postpone again."  She looked up at him and laughed a little in
+mock consternation.
+
+Loder was at a loss.
+
+Another silence followed, while Lillian waited; then she
+frowned suddenly and rose from the couch.  Like many indolent
+people, she possessed a touch of obstinacy; and now that her
+triumph over Chilcote was obtained, now that she had
+vindicated her right to command him, her original purpose came
+uppermost again.  Cold or interested, indifferent or
+attentive, she intended to make use of him.
+
+She moved to the fire and stood looking down into it.
+
+"Jack," she began, gently, "a really amazing thing has
+happened to me.  I do so want you to throw some light."
+
+Loder said nothing.
+
+There was a fresh pause while she softly smoothed the silk
+embroidery that edged her gown.  Then once more she looked up
+at him.
+
+"Did I ever tell you," she began, "that I was once in a
+railway accident on a funny little Italian railway, centuries
+before I met you?"  She laughed softly; and with a pretty air
+of confidence turned from the fire and resumed her seat.
+
+"Astrupp had caught a fever in Florence, and I was rushing
+away for fear of the infection, when our stupid little train
+ran off the rails near Pistoria and smashed itself up.
+Fortunately we were within half a mile of a village, so we
+weren't quite bereft.  The village was impossibly like a toy
+village, and the accommodation what one would expect in a
+Noah's Ark, but it was all absolutely picturesque.  I put up
+at the little inn with my maid and Ko Ko--Ko Ko was such a
+sweet dog--a white poodle.  I was tremendously keen on poodles
+that year."  She stopped and looked thoughtfully towards the
+fire.
+
+"But to come to the point of the story, Jack, the toy village
+had a boy doll!"  She laughed again.  "He was an Englishman
+--and the first person to come to my rescue on the night of the
+smash-up.  He was staying at the Noah's Ark inn; and after
+that first night I--he--we--Oh, Jack, haven't you any
+imagination?"  Her voice sounded petulant and sharp.  The man
+who is indifferent to the recital of an old love affair
+implies the worst kind of listener.  "I believe you aren't
+interested," she added, in another and more reproachful tone.
+
+He leaned forward.  "You're wrong there," he said, slowly.
+"I'm deeply interested."
+
+She glanced at him again.  His tone reassured her, but his
+words left her uncertain; Chilcote was rarely emphatic.  With
+a touch of hesitation she went on with her tale:
+
+"As I told you, he was the first to find us--to find me, I
+should say, for my stupid maid was having hysterics farther up
+the line, and Ko Ko was lost.  I remember the first thing I
+did was to send him in search of Ko Ko--"
+
+Notwithstanding his position, Loder found occasion to smile.
+"Did he succeed?" he said, dryly.
+
+"Succeed?  Oh yes, he succeeded."  She also smiled involuntarily.
+"Poor Ko Ko was stowed away under the luggage-van; and after
+quite a lot of trouble he pulled him out.  When it was all done
+the dog was quite unhurt and livelier than ever, but the
+Englishman had his finger almost bitten through.  Ko Ko was a
+dear, but his teeth and his temper were both very sharp!"  She
+laughed once more in soft amusement.
+
+Loder was silent for a second, then he too laughed--Chilcote's
+short, sarcastic laugh.  "And you tied up the wound, I suppose?"
+
+She glanced up, half displeased.  "We were both staying at the
+little inn," she said, as though no further explanation could
+be needed.  Then again her manner changed.  She moved
+imperceptibly nearer and touched his right hand.  His left,
+which was farther away from her, was well in the shadow of the
+cushions.
+
+"Jack," she said, caressingly, "it isn't to tell you this
+stupid old story that I've brought you here; it's really to
+tell you a sort of sequel."  She stroked his hand gently once
+or twice.  "As I say, I met this man and we--we had an affair.
+You understand?  Then we quarrelled--quarrelled quite badly
+--and I came away.  I've remembered him rather longer than I
+remember most people--he was one of those dogged individuals
+who stick in one's mind.  But he has stayed in mine for
+another reason--"  Again she looked up.  "He has stayed
+because you helped to keep him there.  You know how I have
+sometimes put my hands over your mouth and told you that your
+eyes reminded me of some one else?  Well, that some one else
+was my Englishman.  But you mustn't be jealous; he was a
+horrid, obstinate person, and you--well, you know what I think
+of you--"  She pressed his hand.  "But to come to the end of
+the story, I never saw this man since that long-ago time,
+until--until the night of Blanche's party !"  She spoke
+slowly, to give full effect to her words; then she waited for
+his surprise.
+
+But the result was not what she expected.  He said nothing;
+and, with an abrupt movement, he drew his hand from between
+hers.
+
+"Aren't you surprised?" she asked at last, with a delicate
+note of reproof.
+
+He started slightly, as if recalled to the necessity of the
+moment.  "Surprised?" he said.  "Why should I be surprised?
+One person more or less at a big party isn't astonishing.
+Besides, you expect a man to turn up sooner or later in his
+own country.  Why should I be surprised?"
+
+She lay back luxuriously.  "Because, my dear boy," she said,
+softly, "it's a mystery!  It's one of those fascinating
+mysteries that come once in a lifetime."
+
+Loder made no movement.  "You must explain," he said, very
+quietly.
+
+Lillian smiled.  "That's just what I want to do.  When I was
+in my tent on the night of Blanche's party, a man came to be
+gazed for.  He came just like anybody else, and laid his hands
+upon the table.  He had strong, thin hands like--well, rather
+like yours But he wore two rings on the third finger of his
+left hand--a heavy signet-ring and a plain gold one."
+
+Loder moved his hand imperceptibly till the cushion covered
+it.  Lillian's words caused him no surprise, scarcely even any
+trepidation.  He felt now that he had expected them, even
+waited for them, all along.
+
+"I asked him to, take off his rings," she went on, "and just
+for a second he hesitated--I could feel him hesitate; then he
+seemed to make up his mind, for he drew them off.  He drew
+them off, Jack, and guess what I saw!  Do guess!"
+
+For the first time Loder involuntarily drew back into his
+corner of the couch.  "I never guess," he said, brusquely.
+
+"Then I'll tell you.  His hands were the hands of my
+Englishman!  The rings covered the scar made by Ko Ko's teeth.
+I knew it instantly--the second my eyes rested on it.  It was
+the same scar that I had bound up dozens of times--that I had
+seen healed before I left Santasalare."
+
+"And you?  What did you do?"  Loder felt it singularly
+difficult and unpleasant to speak.
+
+"Ah, that's the point.  That's where I was stupid and made my
+mistake.  I should have spoken to him on the moment, but I
+didn't.  You know how one sometimes hesitates.  Afterwards it
+was too late."
+
+"But you saw him afterwards--in the rooms?"  Loder spoke
+unwillingly.
+
+"No, I didn't--that's the other point.  I didn't see him in
+the rooms, and I haven't seen him since.  Directly he was
+gone, I left the tent--I pretended to be hungry and bored;
+but, though I went through every room, he was nowhere to be
+found.  Once--" she hesitated and laughed again--" once I
+thought I had found him, but it was only you--you, as you
+stood in that door-way with your mouth and chin hidden by
+Leonard Kaine's head.  Wasn't it a quaint mistake?"
+
+There was an uncertain pause.  Then Loder, feeling the need of
+speech, broke the silence suddenly.  "Where do I come in?" he
+asked abruptly.  "What am I wanted for?"
+
+"To help to throw light on the mystery!  I've seen Blanche's
+list of people, and there wasn't a man I couldn't place--no
+outsider ever squeezes through Blanche's door.  I have
+questioned Bobby Blessington, but he can't remember who came
+to the tent last.  And Bobby was supposed to have kept count!"
+She spoke in deep scorn; but almost immediately the scorn
+faded and she smiled again.  "Now that I've explain ed, Jack,"
+she added, "what do you suggest?"
+
+Then for the first time Loder knew what his presence in the
+room really meant; and at best the knowledge was
+disconcerting.  It is not every day that a man is called upon
+to unearth himself.
+
+"Suggest?" he repeated, blankly.
+
+"Yes.  I'd rather have your idea of the affair than anybody
+else's.  You are so dear and sarcastic and keen that you can't
+help getting straight at the middle of a fact."
+
+When Lillian wanted anything she could be very sweet.  She
+suddenly dropped her half-petulant tone; she suddenly ceased
+to be a spoiled child.  With a perfectly graceful movement she
+drew quite close to Loder and slid gently to her knees.
+
+This is an attitude that few women can safely assume; it
+requires all the attributes of youth, suppleness, and a
+certain buoyant ease.  But Lillian never acted without
+justification, and as she leaned towards Loder her face
+lifted, her slight figure and pale hair softened by the
+firelight, she made a picture that it would have been
+difficult to criticise.
+
+But the person who should have appreciated it stared steadily
+beyond it to the fire.  His mind was absorbed by one question
+--the question of how he might reasonably leave the house
+before discovery became assured.
+
+Lillian, attentively watchful of him, saw the uneasy look, and
+her own face fell.  But, as she looked, an inspiration came to
+her--a remembrance of many interviews with Chilcote smoothed
+and facilitated by the timely use of tobacco.
+
+"Jack," she said, softly, "before you say another word I
+insist on your lighting a cigarette."  She leaned forward.
+resting against his knee.
+
+At her words Loder's eyes left the fire.  His attention was
+suddenly needed for a new and more imminent difficulty.
+"Thanks!" he said, quickly.  "I have no wish to smoke."
+
+"It isn't a matter of what you wish but of what I say."  She
+smiled.  She knew that Chilcote with a cigarette between his
+lips was infinitely more tractable than Chilcote sitting idle,
+and she had no intention of ignoring the knowledge.
+
+But Loder caught at her words.  "Before you ordered me to
+smoke," he said, "you told me to give you some advice.  Your
+first command must have prior claim."  He grasped
+unhesitatingly at the less risky theme.
+
+She looked up at him.  "You're always nicer when you smoke,"
+she persisted, caressingly.  "Light a cigarette--and give me
+one."
+
+Loder's mouth became set.  "No," he said, "we'll stick to this
+advice business.  It interests me."
+
+"Yes--afterwards."
+
+"No, now.  You want to find out why this Englishman from Italy
+was at your sister's party, and why he disappeared?"
+
+There are times when a malignant obstinacy seems to affect
+certain people.  The only answer Lillian made was to
+pass her hand over Loder's waistcoat, and, feeling his
+cigarette-case, to draw it from the pocket.
+
+He affected not to see it.  "Do you think he recognized you in
+that tent?" he insisted, desperately.
+
+She held out the case.  "Here are your cigarettes.  You know
+we're always more social when we smoke."
+
+In the short interval while she looked up into his face
+several ideas passed through Loder's mind.  He thought of
+standing up suddenly and so regaining his advantage; he
+wondered quickly whether one hand could possibly suffice for
+the taking out and lighting of two cigarettes.  Then all need
+for speculation was pushed suddenly aside.
+
+Lillian, looking into his face, saw his fresh look of
+disturbance, and from long experience again changed her
+tactics.  Laying the cigarette-case on the couch, she put one
+hand on his shoulder, the other on his left arm.  Hundreds of
+times this caressing touch had quieted Chilcote.
+
+"Dear old boy!" she said, soothingly, her hand moving slowly
+down his arm.
+
+In a flash of understanding the consequences of this position
+came to him.  Action was imperative, at whatever risk.  With
+an abrupt gesture he rose.
+
+The movement was awkward.  He got to his feet precipitately;
+Lillian drew back, surprised and startled, catching
+involuntarily at his left hand to steady her position.
+
+Her fingers grasped at, then held his.  He made no effort to
+release them.  With a dogged acknowledgment, he admitted
+himself worsted.
+
+How long she stayed immovable, holding his hand, neither of
+them knew.  The process of a woman's instinct is so subtle, so
+obscure, that it would be futile to apply to it the
+commonplace test of time.  She kept her hold tenaciously, as
+though his fingers possessed some peculiar virtue; then at
+last she spoke.
+
+"Rings, Jack?" she said, very slowly.  And under the two short
+words a whole world of incredulity and surmise made itself
+felt.
+
+Loder laughed.
+
+At the sound she dropped his hand and rose from her knees.
+What her suspicions, what her instincts were she could not
+have clearly defined, but her action was unhesitating.
+Without a moment's uncertainty she turned to the fireplace,
+pressed the electric button, and flooded the room with light.
+
+There is no force so demoralizing as unexpected light.  Loder
+took a step backward, his hand hanging unguarded by his side;
+and Lillian, stepping forward, caught it again before he could
+protest.  Lifting it quickly, she looked scrutinizingly at the
+two rings.
+
+All women jump to conclusions, and it is extraordinary how
+seldom they jump short.  Seeing only what Lillian saw, knowing
+only what she knew, no man would have staked a definite
+opinion; but the other sex takes a different view.  As she
+stood gazing at the rings her thoughts and her conclusions
+sped through her mind like arrows--all aimed and all tending
+towards one point.  She remembered the day when she and
+Chilcote had talked of doubles, her scepticism and his
+vehement defence of the idea; his sudden interest in the book
+'Other Men's Shoes', and his anathema against life and its
+irksome round of duties.  She remembered her own first
+convinced recognition of the eyes that had looked at her in
+the doorway of her sister's house; and, last of all, she
+remembered Chilcote's unaccountable avoidance of the same
+subject of likenesses when she had mentioned it yesterday
+driving through the Park--and with it his unnecessarily curt
+repudiation of his former opinions.  She reviewed each item,
+then she raised her head slowly and looked at Loder.
+
+He was prepared for the glance and met it steadily.
+
+In the long moment that her eyes searched his face it was she
+and not he who changed color.  She was the first to speak.
+"You were the man whose hands I saw in the tent," she said.
+She made the statement in her usual soft tones, but a slight
+tremor of excitement underran her voice.  Poodles, Persian
+kittens, even crystal gazing-balls, seemed very far away in
+face of this tangible, fabulous, present interest.  "You are
+not Jack Chilcote," she said, very slowly.  "You are wearing
+his clothes, and speaking in his voice but you are not Jack
+Chilcote."  Her tone quickened with a touch of excitement.
+"You needn't keep silent and look at me," she said.  "I know
+quite well what I am saying--though I don't understand it,
+though I have no real proof--"  She paused, momentarily
+disconcerted by her companion's silent and steady gaze, and in
+the pause a curious and unexpected thing occurred.
+
+Loder laughed suddenly--a full, confident, reassured laugh.
+All the web that the past half-hour had spun about him, all
+the intolerable sense of an impending crash, lifted suddenly.
+He saw his way clearly--and it was Lillian who had opened his
+eyes.
+
+Still looking at her, he smiled--a smile of reliant
+determination, such as Chilcote had never worn in his life.
+And with a calm gesture he released his hand.
+
+"The greatest charm of woman is her imagination," he said,
+quietly.  "Without it there would be no color in life; we
+would come into and drop out of it with the same uninteresting
+tone of drab reality."  He paused and smiled again.
+
+At his smile, Lillian involuntarily drew back, the color
+deepening in her cheeks.  "Why do you say that?" she asked.
+
+He lifted his head.  With each moment he felt more certain of
+himself.  "Because that is my attitude," he said.  "As a man I
+admire your imagination, but as a man I fail to follow your
+reasoning."
+
+The words and the tone both stung her.  "Do you realize the
+position?" she asked, sharply.  "Do you realize that, whatever
+your plans are, I can spoil them?"
+
+Loder still met her eyes.  "I realize nothing of the sort," he
+said.
+
+"Then you admit that you are not Jack Chilcote?"
+
+"I neither deny nor admit.  My identity is obvious.  I can get
+twenty men to swear to it at any moment that you like.  The
+fact that I haven't worn rings till now will scarcely interest
+them."
+
+"But you do admit--to me, that you are not Jack?"
+
+"I deny nothing--and admit nothing.  I still offer my
+congratulations."
+
+"Upon what?"
+
+"The same possession--your imagination."
+
+Lillian stamped her foot.  Then, by a quick effort, she
+conquered her temper.  "Prove me to be wrong!" she said, with
+a fresh touch of excitement.  "Take off your rings and let me
+see your hand."
+
+With a deliberate gesture Loder put his hand behind his back.
+"I never gratify childish curiosity," he said, with another
+smile.
+
+Again a flash of temper crossed her eyes.  "Are you sure," she
+said, "that it's quite wise to talk like that?"
+
+Loder laughed again.  "Is that a threat?"
+
+"Perhaps."
+
+"Then it's an empty one."
+
+"Why?"
+
+Before replying he waited a moment, looking down at her.
+
+"I conclude," he began, quietly, "that your idea is to spread
+this wild, improbable story--to ask people to believe that
+John Chilcote, whom they see before them, is not John
+Chilcote, but somebody else.  Now you'll find that a harder
+task than you imagine.  This is a sceptical world, and people
+are absurdly fond of their own eyesight.  We are all
+journalists nowadays--we all want facts.  The first thing you
+will be asked for is your proof.  And what does your proof
+consist of?  The circumstance that John Chilcote, who has
+always despised jewelry, has lately taken to wearing rings!
+Your own statement, unattended by any witnesses, that with
+those rings off his finger bears a scar belonging to another
+man!  No; on close examination I scarcely imagine that your
+case would hold."  He stopped, fired by his own logic.  The
+future might be Chilcote's but the present was his; and this
+present--with its immeasurable possibilities
+--had been rescued from catastrophe.  "No," he said, again.
+"When you get your proof perhaps we'll have another talk; but
+till then--"
+
+"Till then?" She looked up quickly; but almost at once her
+question died away.
+
+The door had opened, and the servant who had admitted Loder
+stood in the opening.
+
+"Dinner is served!" he announced, in his deferential voice.
+
+
+
+
+XXIII
+
+
+And Loder dined with Lillian Astrupp.  We live in an age when
+society expects, even exacts, much.  He dined, not through
+bravado and not through cowardice, but because it seemed the
+obvious, the only thing to do.  To him a scene of any
+description was distasteful; to Lillian it was unknown.  In
+her world people loved or hated, were spiteful or foolish,
+were even quixotic or dishonorable, but they seldom made
+scenes.  Loder tacitly saw and tacitly accepted this.
+
+Possibly they ate extremely little during the course of the
+dinner, and talked extraordinarily much on subjects that
+interested neither; but the main point at least was gained.
+They dined.  The conventionalities were appeased; the silent,
+watchful servants who waited on them were given no food for
+comment.  The fact that Loder left immediately after dinner,
+the fact that he paused on the door-step after the hall door
+had closed behind him, and drew a long, deep breath of relief,
+held only an individual significance and therefore did not
+count.
+
+On reaching Chilcote's house he passed at once to the
+study and dismissed Greening for the night.  But scarcely
+had he taken advantage of his solitude by settling into an
+arm-chair and lighting a cigar, than Renwick, displaying an
+unusual amount of haste and importance, entered the room
+carrying a letter.
+
+Seeing Loder, he came forward at once.  "Mr. Fraide's man
+brought this, sir," he explained.  "He was most particular to
+give it into my hands--making sure 'twould reach you.  He's
+waiting for an answer, sir."
+
+Loder rose and took the letter, a quick thrill of speculation
+and interest springing across his mind.  During his time of
+banishment he had followed the political situation with
+feverish attention, insupportably chafed by the desire to
+share in it, apprehensively chilled at the thought of
+Chilcote's possible behavior.  He knew that in the
+comparatively short interval since Parliament had risen no act
+of aggression had marked the Russian occupation of Meshed, but
+he also knew that Fraide and his followers looked askance at
+that great power's amiable attitude, and at sight of his
+leader's message his intuition stirred.
+
+Turning to the nearest lamp, he tore the envelope open and
+scanned the letter anxiously.  It was written in Fraide's own
+clear, somewhat old-fashioned writing, and opened with a
+kindly rebuke for his desertion of him since the day of his
+speech; then immediately, and with characteristic clearness,
+it opened up the subject nearest the writer's mind.
+
+Very slowly and attentively Loder read the letter; and with
+the extreme quiet that with him invariably covered emotion, he
+moved to the desk, wrote a note, and handed it to the waiting
+servant.  As the man turned towards the door he called him.
+
+"Renwick!" he said, sharply, "when you've given that letter to
+Mr. Fraide's servant, ask Mrs. Chilcote if she can spare me
+five minutes."
+
+When Renwick had gone and closed the door behind him, Loder
+paced the room with feverish activity.  In one moment the
+aspect of life had been changed.  Five minutes since he had
+been glorying in the risk of a barely saved situation; now
+that situation with its merely social complications had become
+a matter of small importance.
+
+His long, striding steps had carried him to the fireplace, and
+his back was towards the door when at last the handle turned.
+He wheeled round to receive Eve's message; then a look of
+pleased surprise crossed his face.  It was Eve herself who
+stood in the doorway.
+
+Without hesitation his lips parted.  "Eve," he said, abruptly,
+"I have had great news!  Russia has shown her teeth at last.
+Two caravans belonging to a British trader were yesterday
+interfered with by a band of Cossacks.  The affair occurred a
+couple of miles outside Meshed; the traders remonstrated, but
+the Russians made summary use of their advantage.  Two
+Englishmen were wounded and one of them has since died.
+Fraide has only now received the news--which cannot be overrated.
+It gives the precise lever necessary for the big move at the
+reassembling."  He spoke with great earnestness and unusual
+haste.  As he finished he took a step forward.  "But that's not
+all!" he added.  "Fraide wants the great move set in motion by
+a great speech--and he has asked me to make it."
+
+For a moment Eve waited.  She looked at him in silence; and in
+that silence he read in her eyes the reflection of his own
+expression.
+
+"And you?" she asked, in a suppressed voice.  "What answer did
+you give?"
+
+He watched her for an instant, taking a strange pleasure in
+her flushed face and brilliantly eager eyes; then the joy of
+conscious strength, the sense of opportunity regained, swept
+all other considerations out of sight.
+
+"I accepted," he said, quickly.  "Could any man who was merely
+human have done otherwise?"
+
+That was Loder's attitude and action on the night of his
+jeopardy and his success, and the following day found his mood
+unchanged.  He was one of those rare individuals who never
+give a promise overnight and regret it in the morning.  He was
+slow to move, but when he did the movement brushed all
+obstacles aside.  In the first days of his usurpation he had
+gone cautiously, half fascinated, half distrustful; then the
+reality, the extraordinary tangibility of the position had
+gripped him when, matching himself for the first time with men
+of his own caliber, he had learned his real weight on the day
+of his protest against the Easter adjournment.  With that
+knowledge had been born the dominant factor in his whole
+scheme--the overwhelming, insistent desire to manifest his
+power.  That desire that is the salvation or the ruin of every
+strong man who has once realized his strength.  Supremacy was
+the note to which his ambition reached.  To trample out
+Chilcote's footmarks with his own had been his tacit instinct
+from the first; now it rose paramount.  It was the whole
+theory of creation--the survival of the fittest--the deep,
+egotistical certainty that he was the better man.
+
+And it was with this conviction that he entered on the vital
+period of his dual career.  The imminent crisis, and his own
+share in it, absorbed him absolutely.
+
+In the weeks that followed his answer to Fraide's proposal he
+gave himself ungrudgingly to his work.  He wrote, read, and
+planned with tireless energy; he frequently forgot to eat, and
+slept only through sheer exhaustion; in the fullest sense of
+the word he lived for the culminating hour that was to bring
+him failure or success.
+
+He seldom left Grosvenor Square in the days that followed,
+except to confer with his party.  All his interest, all his
+relaxation even, lay in his work and what pertained to it.
+His strength was like a solid wall, his intelligence was sharp
+and keen as steel.  The moment was his; and by sheer mastery
+of will he put other considerations out of sight.  He forgot
+Chilcote and forgot Lillian--not because they escaped his
+memory, but because he chose to shut them from it.
+
+Of Eve he saw but little in this time of high pressure.  When
+a man touches the core of his capacities, puts his best into
+the work that in his eyes stands paramount, there is little
+place for, and no need of, woman.  She comes before--and after.
+She inspires, compensates, or completes; but the achievement,
+the creation, is man's alone.  And all true women understand
+and yield to this unspoken precept.
+
+Eve watched the progress of his labor, and in the depth of her
+own heart the watching came nearer to actual living than any
+activity she had known.  She was an on-looker--but an on-looker
+who stood, as it were, on the steps of the arena, who, by a
+single forward movement, could feel the sand under her feet,
+the breath of the battle on her face; and in this knowledge
+she rested satisfied.
+
+There were hours when Loder seemed scarcely conscious of
+her existence; but on those occasions she smiled in her serene
+way--and went on waiting.  She knew that each day, before the
+afternoon had passed, he would come into her sitting-room, his
+face thoughtful, his hands full of books or papers, and,
+dropping into one of the comfortable, studious chairs, would
+ask laconically for tea.  This was her moment of triumph and
+recompense--for the very unconsciousness of his coming doubled
+its value.  He would sit for half an hour with a preoccupied
+glance, or with keen, alert eyes fixed on the fire, while his
+ideas sorted themselves and fell into line.  Sometimes he was
+silent for the whole half-hour, sometimes he commented to
+himself as he scanned his notes; but on other and rarer
+occasions he talked, speaking his thoughts and his theories
+aloud, with the enjoyment of a man who knows himself fully in
+his depth, while Eve sipped her tea or stitched peacefully at
+a strip of embroidery.
+
+On these occasions she made a perfect listener.  Here and
+there she encouraged him with an intelligent remark, but she
+never interrupted.  She knew when to be silent and when to
+speak; when to merge her own individuality and when to make it
+felt.  In these days of stress and preparation he came to her
+unconsciously for rest; he treated her as he might have
+treated a younger brother--relying on her discretion, turning
+to her as by right for sympathy, comprehension, and friendship.
+Sometimes, as they sat silent in the richly colored, homelike
+room, Eve would pause over her embroidery and let her thoughts
+spin momentarily forward--spin towards the point where, the
+brunt of his ordeal passed, he must, of necessity, seek
+something beyond mere rest.  But there her thoughts would
+inevitably break off and the blood flame quickly into her cheek.
+
+Meanwhile Loder worked persistently.  With each day that
+brought the crisis of Fraide's scheme nearer, his activity
+increased--and with it an intensifying of the nervous strain.
+For if he had his hours of exaltation, he also had his hours
+of black apprehension.  It is all very well  to exorcise a
+ghost by sheer strength of will, but one  has also to eliminate
+the idea that gave it existence.  Lillian Astrupp, with her
+unattested evidence and her ephemeral interest, gave him no real
+uneasiness; but Chilcote and Chilcote's possible summons were
+matters of graver consideration; and there were times when they
+loomed very dark and sinister: What if at the very moment of
+fulfilment--?  But invariably he snapped the thread of the
+supposition and turned with fiercer ardor to his work of
+preparation.
+
+And so the last morning of his probation dawned, and for the
+first time he breathed freely.
+
+He rose early on the day that was to witness his great effort
+and dressed slowly.  It was a splendid morning; the spirit of
+the spring seemed embodied in the air, in  the pale-blue sky,
+in the shafts of cool sunshine that danced from the mirror to
+the dressing-table, from the dressing-table to the pictures
+on the walls of Chilcote's vast room.  Inconsequently with its
+dancing rose a memory  of the distant past--a memory of
+long-forgotten days when, as a child, he had been bidden to
+watch the same sun  perform the same fantastic evolutions.  The
+sight and the thought stirred him curiously with an unlooked-for
+sense of youth.  He drew himself together with an added touch of
+decision as he passed out into the corridor; and as he walked
+down-stairs he whistled a bar or two of an inspiriting tune.
+
+In the morning-room Eve was already waiting.  She looked up,
+colored, and smiled as he entered.  Her face looked very fresh
+and young and she wore a gown of the same pale blue that she
+had worn on his first coming.
+
+She looked up from an open letter as he came into the room,
+and the sun that fell through the window caught her in a shaft
+of light, intensifying her blue eyes, her blue gown, and the
+bunch of violets fastened in her belt.  To Loder, still under
+the influence of early memories, she seemed the embodiment of
+some youthful ideal--something lost, sought for, and found
+again.  Realization of his feeling for her almost came to him
+as be stood there looking at her.  It hovered about him; it
+tipped him, as it were, with its wings; then it rose again and
+soared away.  Men like him--men keen to grasp an opening where
+their careers are concerned, and tenacious to hold it when once
+grasped--are frequently the last to look into their own hearts.
+He glanced at Eve, he acknowledged the stir of his feeling, but
+he made no attempt to define its cause.  He could no more have
+given reason for his sensations than he could have told the
+precise date upon which, coming down-stairs at eight o'clock, he
+had first found her waiting breakfast for him.  The time when
+all such incidents were to stand out, each to a nicety in its
+appointed place, had not yet arrived.  For the moment his
+youth had returned to him; he possessed the knowledge of work
+done, the sense of present companionship in a world of
+agreeable things; above all, the steady, quiet conviction of
+his own capacity.  All these things came to him in the moment
+of his entering the room, greeting Eve, and passing to the
+breakfast-table; then, while his eyes still rested contentedly
+on the pleasant array of china and silver, while his senses
+were still alive to the fresh, earthly scent of Eve's violets,
+the blow so long dreaded--so slow in coming fell with
+accumulated force.
+
+
+
+
+XXIV
+
+
+The letter through which the blow fell was not voluminous.  It
+was written on cheap paper in a disguised hand, and the
+contents covered only half a page.  Loder read it slowly,
+mentally articulating every word; then he laid it down, and as
+he did so he caught Eve's eyes raised in concern.  Again he
+saw something of his own feelings reflected in her face, and
+the shock braced him; he picked up the letter, tearing it into
+strips.
+
+"I must go out," he said, slowly.  "I must go now--at once."
+His voice was hard.
+
+Eve's surprised, concerned eyes still searched his.  "Now
+--at once?" she repeated.  "Now--without breakfast?"
+
+"I'm not hungry."  He rose from his seat, and, carrying the
+slips of paper across the room, dropped them into the fire.
+He did it, not so much from caution, as from an imperative
+wish to do something, to move, if only across the room.
+
+Eve's glance followed him.  "Is it bad news?" she asked,
+anxiously.  It was unlike her to be insistent, but she was
+moved to the impulse by the peculiarity of the moment.
+
+"No," he said shortly.  "It's--business.  This was written
+yesterday; I should have got it last night."
+
+Her eyes widened.  "But nobody does business at eight in the
+morning--" she began, in astonishment; then she suddenly broke
+off.
+
+Without apology or farewell, Loder had left the fireplace and
+walked out of the room.
+
+He passed through the hall hurriedly, picking up a hat as he
+went; and, reaching the pavement outside, he went straight
+forward until Grosvenor Square was left behind; then he ran.
+At the risk of reputation, at the loss of dignity, he ran
+until he saw a cab.  Hailing it, he sprang inside, and, as the
+cabman whipped up and the horse responded to the call, he
+realized for the first time the full significance of what had
+occurred.
+
+Realization, like the need for action, came to him slowly, but
+when it came it was with terrible lucidity.  He did not swear
+as he leaned back in his seat, mechanically watching the
+stream of men on their way to business, the belated cars of
+green produce blocking the way between the Strand and Covent
+Garden.  He had no use for oaths; his feelings lay deeper than
+mere words.  But his mouth was sternly set and his eyes looked
+cold.
+
+Outside the Law Courts he dismissed his cab and walked forward
+to Clifford's Inn.  As he passed through the familiar entrance
+a chill fell on him.  In the clear, early light it seemed more
+than ever a place of dead hopes, dead enterprises, dead
+ambitions.  In the onward march of life it had been forgotten.
+The very air had a breath of unfulfilment.
+
+He crossed the court rapidly, but his mouth set itself afresh
+as he passed through the door-way of his own house and crossed
+the bare hall.
+
+As he mounted the well-known stairs, he received his first
+indication of life in the appearance of a cat from the
+second-floor rooms.  At sight of him, the animal came forward,
+rubbed demonstratively against his legs, and with affectionate
+persistence followed him up-stairs.
+
+Outside his door he paused.  On the ground stood the usual
+morning can of milk--evidence that Chilcote was not yet awake
+or that, like himself, he had no appetite for breakfast.  He
+smiled ironically as the idea struck him, but it was a smile
+that stiffened rather than relaxed his lips.  Then he drew out
+the duplicate key he always carried, and, inserting it
+quietly, opened the door.  A close, unpleasant smell greeted
+him as he entered the small passage that divided the bed and
+sitting rooms--a smell of whiskey mingling with the odor of
+stale smoke.  With a quick gesture he pushed open the bedroom
+door; then on the threshold he paused, a look of contempt and
+repulsion passing over his face.
+
+In his first glance he scarcely grasped the details of the
+scene, for the half-drawn curtains kept the light dim, but as
+his eyes grew accustomed to the obscurity he gathered their
+significance.
+
+The room had a sleepless, jaded air--the room that under his
+own occupation had shown a rigid, almost monastic severity.
+The plain dressing-table was littered with cigarette ends and
+marked with black and tawny patches where the tobacco had been
+left to burn itself out.  On one corner of the table a carafe
+of water and a whiskey-decanter rested one against the other,
+as if for support, and at the other end an overturned tumbler
+lay in a pool of liquid.  The whole effect was sickly and
+nauseating.  His glance turned involuntarily to the bed, and
+there halted.
+
+On the hard, narrow mattress, from which the sheets and
+blankets had fallen in a disordered heap, lay Chilcote.  He
+was fully dressed in a shabby tweed suit of Loder's; his
+collar was open, his lip and chin unshaven; one hand was
+limply grasping the pillow, while the other hung out over the
+side of the bed.  His face, pale, almost earthy in hue, might
+have been a mask, save for the slight convulsive spasms that
+crossed it from time to time, and corresponded with the faint,
+shivering starts that passed at intervals over his whole body.
+To complete his repellent appearance, a lock of hair had
+fallen loose and lay black and damp across his forehead.
+
+Loder stood for a space shocked and spellbound by the sight.
+Even in the ghastly disarray, the likeness--the extraordinary,
+sinister likeness that had become the pivot upon which he
+himself revolved--struck him like a blow.  The man who lay
+there was himself-bound to him by some subtle, inexplicable
+tie of similarity.  As the idea touched him he turned aside
+and stepped quickly to the dressing-table; there, with
+unnecessary energy, he flung back the curtains and threw the
+window wide; then again he turned towards the bed.  He had one
+dominant impulse--to waken Chilcote, to be free of the
+repulsive, inert presence that chilled him with so personal a
+horror.  Leaning over the bed, he caught the shoulder nearest
+to him and shook it.  It was not the moment for niceties, and
+his gesture was rough.
+
+At his first touch Chilcote made no response--his brain,
+dulled by indulgence in his vice, had become a laggard in
+conveying sensations; but at last, as the pressure on his
+shoulder increased, his nervous system seemed suddenly to jar
+into consciousness.  A long shudder shook him; he half lifted
+himself and then dropped back upon the pillow.
+
+"Oh!" he exclaimed, in a trembling breath.  "Oh!"  The sound
+seemed drawn from him by compulsion.
+
+Its uncanny tone chilled Loder anew.  "Wake up, man!" he said,
+suddenly.  "Wake up!  It's I--Loder."
+
+Again the other shuddered; then he turned quickly and
+nervously.  "Loder?" he said, doubtfully.  "Loder?"  Then his
+face changed.  "Good God!" he exclaimed, "what a relief!"
+
+The words were so intense, so spontaneous and unexpected, that
+Loder took a step back.
+
+Chilcote laughed discordantly, and lifted a shaky hand to
+protect his eyes from the light.
+
+"It's--it's all right, Loder!  It's all right!  It's only that
+I--that I had a beastly dream.  But, for Heaven's sake, shut
+that window!"  He shivered involuntarily and pushed the lock
+of damp hair from his forehead with a weak touch of his old
+irritability.
+
+In silence Loder moved back to the window and shut it.  He was
+affected more than he would own even to himself by the obvious
+change in Chilcote.  He had seen him moody, restless,
+nervously excited; but never before had he seen him entirely
+demoralized.  With a dull feeling of impotence and disgust he
+stood by the closed window, looking unseeingly at the roofs of
+the opposite houses.
+
+But Chilcote had followed his movements restlessly; and now,
+as he watched him, a flicker of excitement crossed his face.
+"God!  Loder," he said, again, "'twas a relief to see you!  I
+dreamed I was in hell--a horrible hell, worse than the one
+they preach about."
+
+He laughed to reassure himself, but his voice shook pitiably.
+
+Loder, who had come to fight, stood silent and inert.
+
+"It was horrible--beastly," Chilcote went on.  "There was no
+fire and brimstone, but there was something worse.  It was a
+great ironic scheme of punishment by which every man was
+chained to his own vice--by which the thing he had gone to
+pieces over, instead of being denied him, was made compulsory.
+You can't imagine it."  He shivered nervously and his voice
+rose.  "Fancy being satiated beyond the limit of satiety,
+being driven and dogged by the thing you had run after all
+your life!"
+
+He paused excitedly, and in the pause Loder found resolution.
+He shut his ears to the panic in Chilcote's voice, he closed
+his consciousness to the sight of his shaken face.  With a
+surge of determination he rallied his theories.  After all, he
+had himself and his own interests to claim his thought.  At
+the moment Chilcote was a wreck, with no desire towards
+rehabilitation; but there was no guarantee that in an hour or
+two he might not have regained control over himself, and with
+it the inclination that had prompted his letter of the day
+before.  No; he had himself to look to.  The survival of the
+fittest was the true, the only principle.  Chilcote had had
+intellect, education, opportunity, and Chilcote had
+deliberately cast them aside.  Fortifying himself in the
+knowledge, he turned from the window and moved slowly back to
+the bed.
+
+"Look here," he began, "yon wrote for me last night--"  His
+voice was hard; he had come to fight.
+
+Chilcote glanced up quickly.  His mouth was drawn and there
+was anew anxiety in his eyes.  "Loder!" he exclaimed, quickly.
+"Loder, come here!  Come nearer!"
+
+Reluctantly Loder obeyed.  Stepping closer to the side of the
+bed, he bent down.
+
+The other put up his hand and caught his arm.  His fingers
+trembled and jerked.  "I say, Loder," he said, suddenly, "I
+--I've had such a beastly night--my nerves, you know--"
+
+With a quick, involuntary disgust Loder drew back.  "Don't you
+think we might shove that aside?" he asked.
+
+But Chilcote's gaze had wandered from his face and strayed to
+the dressing-table; there it moved feverishly from one object
+to another.
+
+"Loder," he exclaimed, "do you see--can you see if there's a
+tube of tabloids on the mantel-shelf--or on the dressing-table?"
+He lifted himself nervously on his elbow and his eyes wandered
+uneasily about the room.  "I--I had a beastly night; my nerves
+are horribly jarred; and I thought--I think--"  He stopped.
+
+With his increasing consciousness his nervous collapse became
+more marked.  At the first moment of waking, the relief of an
+unexpected presence had surmounted everything else; but now,
+as one by one his faculties stirred, his wretched condition
+became patent.  With a new sense of perturbation Loder made
+his next attack.
+
+"Chilcote--" he began, sternly.
+
+But again Chilcote caught his arm, plucking at the
+coat-sleeve.  "Where is it?" he said.  "Where is the tube of
+tabloids--the sedative?  I'm--I'm obliged to take something
+when my nerves go wrong--"  In his weakness and nervous tremor
+he forgot that Loder was the sharer of his secret.  Even in
+his extremity his fear of detection clung to him limply--the
+lies that had become second nature slipped from him without
+effort.  Then suddenly a fresh panic seized him; his fingers
+tightened spasmodically, his eyes ceased to rove about the
+room and settled on his companion's face.  "Can you see it,
+Loder?" he cried.  "I can't--the light's in my eyes.  Can you
+see it?  Can you see the tube?"  He lifted himself higher, an
+agony of apprehension in his face.
+
+Loder pushed him back upon the pillow.  He was striving hard
+to keep his own mind cool, to steer his own course straight
+through the chaos that confronted him.  "Chilcote," he began
+once more, "you sent for me last night, and I came the first
+thing this morning to tell you--"  But there he stopped.
+
+With an excitement that lent him strength, Chilcote pushed
+aside his hands.  "God!" he said, suddenly, "suppose 'twas
+lost--suppose 'twas gone!"  The imaginary possibility gripped
+him.  He sat up, his face livid, drops of perspiration showing
+on his forehead, his whole shattered system trembling before
+his thought.
+
+At the sight, Loder set his lips.  "The tube is on the
+mantel-shelf," he said, in a cold, abrupt voice.
+
+A groan of relief fell from Chilcote and the muscles of his
+face relaxed.  For a, moment he lay back with closed eyes;
+then the desire that tortured him stirred afresh.  He lifted
+his eyelids and looked at his companion.  "Hand it to me," he
+said, quickly.  "Give it to me.  Give it to me, Loder.  Quick
+as you can!  There's a glass on the table and some whiskey and
+water.  The tabloids dissolve, you know--"  In his new
+excitement he held out his hand.
+
+But Loder stayed motionless.  He had come to fight, to demand,
+to plead--if need be--for the one hour for which he had lived;
+the hour that was to satisfy all labor, all endeavor, all
+ambition.  With dogged persistence he made one more essay.
+
+"Chilcote, you wrote last night to recall me--"  Once again he
+paused, checked by a new interruption.  Sitting up again,
+Chilcote struck out suddenly with his left hand in a rush of
+his old irritability.
+
+"Damn you!" he cried, suddenly, "what are you talking about?
+Look at me!  Get me the stuff.  I tell you it's imperative."
+In his excitement his breath failed and he coughed.  At the
+effort his whole frame was shaken.
+
+Loder walked to the dressing-table, then back to the bed.  A
+deep agitation was at work in his mind.
+
+Again Chilcote's lips parted.  "Loder," he said, faintly
+--"Loder, I must--I must have it.  It's imperative."  Once
+more he attempted to lift himself, but the effort was futile.
+
+Again Loder turned away.
+
+"Loder--for God's sake--"
+
+With a fierce gesture the other turned on him.  "Good heavens!
+man--" he began.  Then unaccountably his voice changed.  The
+suggestion that had been hovering in his mind took sudden and
+definite shape.  "All right!" he said, in a lower voice.  "All
+right!  Stay as you are."
+
+He crossed to where the empty tumbler stood and hastily mixed
+the whiskey and water; then crossing to the mantel-piece where
+lay the small glass tube containing the tightly packed
+tabloids, he paused and glanced once more towards the bed.
+"How many?" he said, laconically.
+
+Chilcote lifted his head.  His face was pitiably drawn, but
+the feverish brightness in his eyes had increased.  "Five," he
+said, sharply.  "Five.  Do you hear, Loder?"
+
+"Five?"  Involuntarily Loder lowered the hand that held the
+tube.  From previous confidences of Chilcote's he knew the
+amount of morphia contained in each tabloid, and realized that
+five tabloids, if not an absolutely dangerous, was at least an
+excessive dose, even for one accustomed to the drug.  For a
+moment his resolution failed; then the dominant-note of his
+nature--the unconscious, fundamental egotism on which his
+character was based--asserted itself beyond denial.  It might
+be reprehensible, it might even be criminal to accede to such
+a request, made by a man in such a condition of body and mind;
+yet the laws of the universe demanded self-assertion--prompted
+every human mind to desire, to grasp, and to hold.  With a
+perception swifter than any he had experienced, he realized
+the certain respite to be gained by yielding to his impulse.
+He looked at Chilcote with his haggard, anxious expression,
+his eager, restless eyes; and a vision of himself followed
+sharp upon his glance.  A vision of the untiring labor of the
+past ten days, of the slowly kindling ambition, of the
+supremacy all but gained.  Then, as the picture completed
+itself, he lifted his hand with an abrupt movement and dropped
+the five tabloids one after another into the glass.
+
+
+
+
+XXV
+
+
+Having taken a definite step in any direction, it was not in
+Loder's nature to wish it retraced.  His face was set, but set
+with determination, when he closed the outer door of his own
+rooms and passed quietly down the stairs and out into the
+silent court.  The thought of Chilcote, his pitiable
+condition, his sordid environments, were things that required
+a firm will to drive into the background of the imagination;
+but a whole inferno of such visions would not have daunted
+Loder on that morning as, unobserved by any eyes, he left the
+little court-yard with its grass, its trees, its pavement--all
+so distastefully familiar--and passed down the Strand towards
+life and action.
+
+As he walked, his steps increased in speed and vigor.  Now,
+for the first time, he fully appreciated the great mental
+strain that he had undergone in the past ten days--the
+unnatural tension; the suppressed, but perpetual, sense of
+impending recall; the consequently high pressure at which
+work, and even existence, had been carried on.  And as he
+hurried forward the natural reaction to this state of things
+came upon him in a flood of security and confidence--a strong
+realization of the temporary respite and freedom for which no
+price would have seemed too high.  The moment for which he had
+unconsciously lived ever since Chilcote's first memorable
+proposition was within reach at last--safeguarded by his own
+action.
+
+The walk from Clifford's Inn to Grosvenor Square was long
+enough to dispel any excitement that his interview had
+aroused; and long before the well-known house came into view
+he felt sufficiently braced mentally and physically to seek
+Eve in the morning-room--where he instinctively felt she would
+still be waiting for him.
+
+Thus he encountered and overpassed the obstacle that had so
+nearly threatened ruin; and, with the singleness of purpose
+that always distinguished him, he was able, once having passed
+it, to dismiss it altogether from his mind.  From the moment
+of his return to Chilcote's house no misgiving as to his own
+action, no shadow of doubt, rose to trouble his mind.  His
+feelings on the matter were quite simple.  He had inordinately
+desired a certain opportunity; one factor had arisen to debar
+that opportunity, and he, claiming the right of strength, had
+set the barrier aside.  In the simplicity of the reasoning lay
+its power to convince; and were a tonic needed to brace him
+for his task, he was provided with one in the masterful sense
+of a difficulty set at nought.  For the man who has fought and
+conquered one obstacle feels strong to vanquish a score.
+
+It was on this day, at the reassembling of Parliament, that
+Fraide's great blow was to be struck.  In the ten days since
+the affair of the caravans had been reported from Persia
+public feeling had run high, and it was upon the pivot of this
+incident that Loder's attack was to turn; for, as Lakely was
+fond of remarking, "In the scales of public opinion, one dead
+Englishman has more weight than the whole Eastern Question!"
+It had been arranged that, following the customary procedure,
+Loder was to rise after questions at the morning sitting and
+ask leave to move the adjournment of the House on a definite
+matter of urgent public importance; upon which--leave having
+been granted by the rising of forty members in his support
+--the way was to lie open for his definite attack at the
+evening sitting.  And it was with a mind attuned to this plan
+of action that he retired to the study immediately he had
+breakfasted, and settled to a final revision of his speech
+before an early party conference should compel him to leave
+the house.  But here again circumstances were destined to
+change his programme.  Scarcely had he sorted his notes and
+drawn his chair to Chilcote's desk than Renwick entered the
+room with the same air of important haste that he had shown on
+a previous occasion.
+
+"A letter from Mr. Fraide, sir.  But there's no answer," he
+said, with unusual brevity.
+
+Loder waited till he had left the room, then he tore the
+letter open.  He read:
+
+
+"MY DEAR CHILCOTE,--Lakely is the recipient of special and
+very vital news from Meshed--unofficial, but none the less
+alarming.  Acts of Russian aggression towards British traders
+are reported to be rapidly increasing, and it is stated that
+the authority of the Consulate is treated with contempt.
+Pending a possible confirmation of this, I would suggest that
+you keep an open mind on the subject of to-night's speech.
+By adopting an anticipatory--even an unprepared--attitude
+you may find your hand materially strengthened.  I shall put
+my opinions before you more explicitly when we meet.
+
+                         "Yours faithfully,
+                                 HERBERT FRAIDE."
+
+
+The letter, worded with Fraide's usual restraint, made a
+strong impression on its recipient.  The thought that his
+speech might not only express opinions already tacitly held,
+but voice a situation of intense and national importance,
+struck him with full force.  For many minutes after he had
+grasped the meaning of Fraide's message he sat neglectful of
+his notes, his elbows resting on the desk, his face between
+his hands, stirred by the suggestion that here might lie a
+greater opportunity than any he had anticipated.
+
+Still moved by this new suggestion, he attended the party
+conclave that Fraide had convened, and afterwards lunched with
+and accompanied his leader to the House.  They spoke very
+little as they drove to Westminster, for each was engrossed by
+his own thoughts.  Only once did Fraide allude to the incident
+that was paramount in both their minds.  Then, turning to
+Loder with a smile of encouragement, he had laid his fingers
+for an instant on his arm.
+
+"Chilcote," he had said, "when the time comes, remember you
+have all my confidence."
+
+Looking back upon that day, Loder often wondered at the
+calmness with which he bore the uncertainty.  To sit
+apparently unmoved, and wait without emotion for news that
+might change the whole tenor of one's action, would have tried
+the stoicism of the most experienced; to the novice it was
+wellnigh unendurable.  And it was under these conditions, and
+fighting against these odds, that he sat through the long
+afternoon in Chilcote's place, obeying the dictates of his
+chief.  But if the day was fraught with difficulties for him,
+it was fraught with dulness and disappointment for others; for
+the undercurrent of interest that had stirred at the Easter
+adjournment, and risen with added force on this first day of
+the new session, was gradually but surely threatened with
+extinction, as hour after hour passed, bringing no suggestion
+of the battle that had on every side been tacitly expected.
+Slowly and unmistakably speculation and dissatisfaction crept
+into the atmosphere of the House, as moment succeeded moment,
+and the Opposition made no sign.  Was Fraide shirking the
+attack?  Or was he playing a waiting game?  Again and again
+the question arose, filling the air with a passing flicker of
+interest; but each time it sprang up only to die down again,
+as the ordinary business of the day dragged itself out.
+
+Gradually, as the afternoon wore on, daylight began to fade.
+Loder, sitting rigidly in Chilcote's place, watched with
+suppressed inquiry the faces of the men who entered through
+the constantly swinging doors; but not one face, so eagerly
+scanned, carried the message for which he waited.
+Monotonously and mechanically the time passed.  The
+Government, adopting a neutral attitude, carefully skirted all
+dangerous subjects; while the Opposition, acting under
+Fraide's suggestion, assisted rather than hindered the
+programme of postponement.  For the moment the, eagerly
+anticipated reassembling threatened dismal failure; and it was
+with a universal movement of weariness and relief that at last
+the House rose to dine.
+
+But there are no possibilities so elastic as those of
+politics.  At half-past seven the House rose in a spirit of
+boredom and disappointment; and at eight o'clock the lobbies,
+the dining-room, the entire space of the vast building, was
+stirred into activity by the arrival of a single telegraphic
+message.
+
+The new development for which Fraide had waited came indeed, but
+it came with a force he had little anticipated.  With a thrill of
+awe and consternation men heard and repeated the astounding news
+that--while personally exercising his authority on behalf of
+British traders--Sir William Brice-Field, Consul-General at
+Meshed, had been fired at by a Russian officer and instantly
+killed.
+
+The interval immediately following the receipt of this news
+was too confused for detailed remembrance.  Two ideas made
+themselves slowly felt--a deep horror that such an event could
+obtrude itself upon our high civilization, and a strong
+personal dismay that so honored, distinguished, and esteemed a
+representative as Sir William Brice-Field could have been
+allowed to meet death in so terrible a manner.
+
+It was in the consciousness of this feeling--the consciousness
+that, in his own person, he might voice, not only the feelings
+of his party, but those of the whole country--that Loder rose
+an hour later to make his long-delayed attack.
+
+He stood silent for a moment, as he had done on an earlier
+occasion; but this time his motive was different.  Roused
+beyond any feeling of self-consciousness, he waited as by
+right for the full attention of the House; then quietly, but
+with self-possessed firmness, he moved the motion for
+adjournment.
+
+Like a match to a train of powder, the words set flame to the
+excitement that had smouldered for weeks; and in an atmosphere
+of stirring activity, a scene of such tense and vital
+concentration as the House has rarely witnessed, he found
+inspiration for his great achievement.
+
+To give Loder's speech in mere words would be little short of
+futile.  The gift of oratory is too illusive, too much a
+matter of eye and voice and individuality, to allow of cold
+reproduction.  To those who heard him speak on that night of
+April 18th the speech will require no recalling; and to those
+who did not hear him there would be no substitute in bare
+reproduction.
+
+In the moment of action it mattered nothing to him that his
+previous preparations were to a great extent rendered useless
+by this news that had come with such paralyzing effect.  In
+the sweeping consciousness of his own ability, he found added
+joy in the freedom it opened up.  He ceased to consider that
+by fate he was a Conservative, bound by traditional
+conventionalities: in that great moment he knew himself
+sufficiently a man to exercise whatever individuality instinct
+prompted.  He forgot the didactic methods by which he had
+proposed to show knowledge of his subject--both as a past and
+a future factor in European politics.  With his own strong
+appreciation of present things, he saw and grasped the vast
+present interest lying beneath his hand.
+
+For fifty minutes he held the interest of the House, speaking
+insistently, fearlessly, commandingly on the immediate need of
+action.  He unhesitatingly pointed out that the news which had
+just reached England was not so much an appalling fact as a
+sinister warning to those in whose keeping lay the safety of
+the country's interests.  Lastly, with a fine touch of
+eloquence, he paid tribute to the steadfast fidelity of such
+men as Sir William Brice-Field, who, whatever political
+complications arise at home, pursue their duty unswervingly on
+the outposts of the empire.
+
+At his last words there was silence--the silence that marks a
+genuine effect--then all at once, with vehement, impressive
+force, the storm of enthusiasm broke its bounds.
+
+It was one of those stupendous bursts of feeling that no
+etiquette, no decorum is powerful enough to quell.  As
+he resumed his seat, very pale, but exalted as men are exalted
+only once or twice in a lifetime, it rose about him--clamorous,
+spontaneous, undeniable.  Near at hand were the faces of his
+party, excited and triumphant; across the house were the faces
+of Sefborough and his Ministry, uncomfortable and disturbed.
+
+The tumult swelled, then fell away; and in the partial lull
+that followed Fraide leaned over the back of his seat.  His
+quiet, dignified expression was unaltered, but his eyes were
+intensely bright.
+
+"Chilcote," he whispered, "I don't congratulate you--or
+myself.  I congratulate the country on possessing a great
+man!"
+
+The remaining features of the debate followed quickly one upon
+the other; the electric atmosphere of the House possessed a
+strong incentive power.  Immediately Loder's ovation had
+subsided, the Under-Secretary for Foreign Affairs rose and in
+a careful and non-incriminating reply defended the attitude of
+the Government.
+
+Next came Fraide, who, in one of his rare and polished
+speeches, touched with much feeling upon his personal grief at
+the news reported from Persia, and made emphatic indorsement
+of Loder's words.
+
+Following Fraide came one or two dissentient Liberals, and
+then Sefborough himself closed the debate.  His speech was
+masterly and fluent; but though any disquietude he may have
+felt was well disguised under a tone of reassuring ease, the
+attempt to rehabilitate his position--already weakened in more
+than one direction--was a task beyond his strength.
+
+Amid extraordinary excitement the division followed--and with
+it a Government defeat.
+
+It was not until half an hour after the votes had, been taken
+that Loder, freed at last from persistent congratulations,
+found opportunity to look for Eve.  In accordance with a
+promise made that morning, he was to find her waiting outside
+the Ladies' Gallery at the close of the debate.
+
+Disengaging himself from the group of men who had surrounded
+and followed him down the lobby, he discarded the lift and ran
+up the narrow staircase.  Reaching the landing, he went
+forward hurriedly; then with a certain abrupt movement he
+paused.  In the doorway leading to the gallery Eve was waiting
+for him.  The place was not brightly lighted, and she was
+standing in the shadow; but it needed only a glance to assure
+his recognition.  He could almost have seen in the dark that
+night, so vivid were his perceptions.  He took a step towards
+her, then again he stopped.  In a second glance he realized
+that her eyes were bright with tears; and it was with the
+strangest sensation he had ever experienced that the knowledge
+flashed upon him.  Here, also, he had struck the same note
+--the long-coveted note of supremacy.  It had rung out full and
+clear as he stood in Chilcote's place dominating the House; it
+had besieged him clamorously as he passed along the lobbies
+amid a sea of friendly hands and voices; now in the quiet of
+the deserted gallery it came home to him with deeper meaning
+from the eyes of Chilcote's wife.
+
+Without a thought he put out his hands and caught hers.
+
+"I couldn't get away," he said.  "I'm afraid I'm very late."
+
+With a smile that scattered her tears Eve looked up.  "Are
+you?" she said, laughing a little.  "I don't know what the
+time is.  I scarcely know whether it's night or day."
+
+Still holding one of her hands, he drew her down the stairs;
+but as they reached the last step she released her fingers.
+
+"In the carriage!" she said, with another little laugh of
+nervous happiness.
+
+At the foot of the stairs they were surrounded.  Men whose
+faces Loder barely knew crowded about him.  The intoxication
+of excitement was still in the air--the instinct that a new
+force had made itself felt, a new epoch been entered upon,
+stirred prophetically in every mind.
+
+Passing through the enthusiastic concourse of men, they came
+unexpectedly upon Fraide and Lady Sarah surrounded by a group
+of friends.  The old statesman came forward instantly, and,
+taking Loder's arm, walked with him to Chilcote's waiting
+brougham.  He said little as they slowly made their way to the
+carriage, but the pressure of his fingers was tense and an
+unwonted color showed in his face.  When Eve and Loder had
+taken their seats he stepped to the edge of the curb.  They
+were alone for the moment, and, leaning close to the carriage,
+he put his hand through the open window.  In silence he took
+Eve's fingers and held them in a long, affectionate pressure;
+then he released them and took Loder's hand.
+
+"Good-night, Chilcote," he said.  "You have proved yourself
+worthy of her.  Good-night."  He turned quickly and rejoined
+his waiting friends.  In another second the horses had wheeled
+round, and Eve and Loder were carried swiftly forward into the
+darkness.
+
+In the great moments of man's life woman comes before--and
+after.  Some shadow of this truth was in, Eve's mind as she
+lay back in her seat with closed eyes, and parted lips.  It
+seemed that life came to her now for the first time--came in
+the glad, proud, satisfying tide of things accomplished.  This
+was her hour: and the recognition of it brought the blood to
+her face in a sudden, happy rush.  There had been no need to
+precipitate its coming; it had been ordained from the first.
+Whether she desired it or no, whether she strove to draw it
+nearer or strove to ward it off, its coming had been
+inevitable.  She opened her eyes suddenly and looked out into
+the darkness--the darkness throbbing with multitudes of lives,
+all awaiting, all desiring fulfilment.  She was no longer
+lonely, no longer aloof; she was kin with all this pitiful,
+admirable, sinning, loving humanity.  Again tears of pride and
+happiness filled her eyes.  Then suddenly the thing she had
+waited for came to pass.
+
+Loder leaned close to her.  She was conscious of his nearer
+presence, of his strong, masterful personality.  With a thrill
+that caught her breath, she felt his arm.  about her shoulder
+and heard the sound of his voice.
+
+"Eve," he said,--"I love you.  Do you understand I love you."
+And drawing her close to him he bent and kissed her.
+
+With Loder, to do was to do fully.  When he gave, he gave
+generously; when he swept aside a barrier he left no stone
+standing.  He had been slow to recognize his capacities
+--slower still to recognize his feelings.  But now that the
+knowledge came he received it openly.  In this matter of newly
+comprehended love he gave no thought to either past or future.
+That they loved and were alone was all he knew or questioned.
+She was as much Eve--the one woman--as though they were
+together in the primeval garden; and in that spirit he claimed
+her.
+
+He neither spoke nor behaved extravagantly in that great
+moment of comprehension.  He acted quietly, with the
+completeness of purpose that he gave to everything.  He had
+found a new capacity within himself, and he was strong enough
+to dread no weakness in displaying it.
+
+Holding her close to him, he repeated his declaration again
+and again, as though repetition ratified it.  He found no need
+to question her feeling for him--he had divined it in a flash
+of inspiration as she stood waiting in the doorway of the
+gallery; but his own surrender was a different matter.
+
+As the carriage passed round the corner of Whitehall and
+dipped into the traffic of Piccadilly he bent down again until
+her soft hair brushed his face; and the warm personal contact,
+the slight, fresh smell of violets so suggestive of her
+presence, stirred' him afresh.
+
+"Eve," he said, vehemently, "do you understand?  Do you know
+that I have loved you always--from the very first?"  As he
+said it he bent still nearer, kissing her lips, her forehead,
+her hair.
+
+At the same moment the horses slackened speed and then stopped,
+arrested by one of the temporary blocks that so often occur in
+the traffic of Piccadillv Circus.
+
+Loder, preoccupied with his own feelings, scarcely noticed the
+halt, but Eve drew away from him laughing.
+
+"You mustn't!" she said, softly.  "Look!"
+
+The carriage had stopped beside one of the small islands that
+intersect the place; a group of pedestrians were crowded upon
+it, under the light of the electric lamp--wayfarers who, like
+themselves, were awaiting a passage.  Loder took a cursory
+glance at them, then turned back to Eve.
+
+"What are they, after all, but men and women?" he said.
+"They'd understand--every one of them."  He laughed in his
+turn; nevertheless he withdrew his arm.  Her feminine thought
+for conventionalities appealed to him.  It was an
+acknowledgment of dependency.
+
+For a while they sat silent, the light of the street lamp
+flickering through the glass of the window, the hum of voices
+and traffic coming to them in a continuous rise and fall of
+sound.  At first the position was interesting; but, as the
+seconds followed each other, it gradually became irksome.
+Loder, watching the varying expressions of Eve's face, grew
+impatient of the delay, grew suddenly eager to be alone again
+in the fragrant darkness.
+
+Impelled by the desire, he leaned forward and opened the
+window.
+
+"Let's find the meaning of this," he said.  "Is there nobody
+to regulate the traffic?"  As he spoke he half rose and leaned
+out of the window.  There was a touch of imperious annoyance
+in his manner.  Fresh from the realization of power, there was
+something irksome in this commonplace check to his desires.
+
+"Isn't it possible to get out of this?" Eve heard him call to
+the coachman.  Then she heard no more.
+
+He had leaned out of the carriage with the intention of
+looking onward towards the cause of the delay; instead,
+by that magnetic attraction that undoubtedly exists, he looked
+directly in front of him at the group of people waiting on the
+little island--at one man who leaned against the lamp-post in
+an attitude of apathy--a man with a pallid, unshaven face and
+lustreless eyes, who wore a cap drawn low over his forehead.
+
+He looked at this man, and the man saw and returned his
+glance.  For a space that seemed interminable they held each
+other's eyes; then very slowly Loder drew back into the
+carriage.
+
+As he dropped into his seat, Eve glanced at him anxiously.
+
+"John," she said, "has anything happened?  You look ill."
+
+He turned to her and tried to smile.
+
+"It's nothing," he said.  "Nothing to worry about."  He spoke
+quickly, but his voice had suddenly become flat.  All the
+command, all the domination had dropped away from it.
+
+Eve bent close to him, her face lighting up with anxious
+tenderness.  "It was the excitement," she said, "the strain of
+tonight."
+
+He looked at her; but he made no attempt to press the fingers
+that clasped his own.
+
+"Yes," he said, slowly.  "Yes.  It was the excitement of
+to-night--and the reaction."
+
+
+
+
+
+XXVI
+
+
+The next morning at eight o'clock, and again without
+breakfast, Loder covered the distance between Grosvenor Square
+and Clifford's Inn.  He left Chilcote's house hastily--with a
+haste that only an urgent motive could have driven him to
+adopt.  His steps were quick and uneven as he traversed the
+intervening streets; his shoulders lacked their decisive pose,
+and his pale face was marked with shadows beneath the eyes
+--shadows that bore witness to the sleepless night spent in
+pacing Chilcote's vast and lonely room.  By the curious effect
+of circumstances the likeness between the two men had never
+been more significantly marked than on that morning of April
+19th, when Loder walked along the pavements crowded with early
+workers and brisk with insistent news-venders already alive
+to the value of last night's political crisis.
+
+The irony of this last element in the day's concerns came to
+him fully when one newsboy, more energetic than his fellows,
+thrust a paper in front of him.
+
+"Sensation in the 'Ouse, sir!  Speech by Mr. Chilcote!
+Government defeat!"
+
+For a moment Loder stopped and his face reddened.  The tide of
+emotions still ran strong.  His hand went instinctively to his
+pocket; then his lips set.  He shook his head and walked on.
+
+With the same hard expression about his mouth, he turned into
+Clifford's Inn, passed through his own doorway, and mounted
+the stairs.
+
+This time there was no milk-can on the threshold of his rooms
+and the door yielded to his pressure without the need of a
+key.  With a strange sensation of reluctance he walked into
+the narrow passage and paused, uncertain which room to enter
+first.  As he stood hesitating a voice from the sitting-room
+settled the question.
+
+"Who's there?" it called, irritably.  "What do you want?"
+
+Without further ceremony the intruder pushed the door open and
+entered the room.  As he did so he drew a quick breath
+--whether of disappointment or relief it was impossible to
+say.  Whether he had hoped for or dreaded it, Chilcote was
+conscious.
+
+As Loder entered he was sitting by the cheerless grate, the
+ashes of yesterday's fire showing charred and dreary where the
+sun touched them.  His back was to the light, and about his
+shoulders was an old plaid rug.  Behind him on the table stood
+a cup, a teapot, and the can of milk; farther off a kettle was
+set to boil upon a tiny spirit-stove.
+
+In all strong situations we are more or less commonplace.
+Loder's first remark as he glanced round the disordered room
+seemed strangely inefficient.
+
+"Where's Robins?" he asked, in a brusque voice.  His mind
+teemed with big considerations, yet this was his first
+involuntary question.
+
+Chilcote had started at the entrance of his visitor; now he
+sat staring at him, his hands holding the arms of his chair.
+
+"Where's Robins?" Loder asked again.
+
+"I don't know.  She--I--We didn't hit it off.  She's gone
+--went yesterday."  He shivered and drew the rug about him.
+
+"Chilcote--" Loder began, sternly; then he paused.  There was
+something in the other's look and attitude that arrested him.
+A change of expression passed over his own face; he turned
+about with an abrupt gesture, pulled off his coat and threw it
+on a chair; then crossing deliberately to the fireplace, he
+began to rake the ashes from the grate.
+
+Within a few minutes he had a fire crackling where the bed of
+dead cinders had been, and, having finished the task, he rose
+slowly from his knees, wiped his hands, and crossed to the
+table.  On the small spirit-stove the kettle had boiled and
+the cover was lifting and falling with a tinkling sound.
+Blowing out the flame, Loder picked up the teapot, and with
+hands that were evidently accustomed to the task set about
+making the tea.
+
+During the whole operation he never spoke, though all the
+while he was fully conscious of Chilcote's puzzled gaze.  The
+tea ready, he poured it into the cup and carried it across the
+room.
+
+"Drink this!" he said, laconically.  "The fire will be up
+presently."
+
+Chilcote extended a cold and shaky hand.  "You see--" he began.
+
+But Loder checked him almost savagely.  "I do--as well as
+though I had followed you from Piccadilly last night!  You've
+been hanging about, God knows where, till the small hours of
+the morning; then you've come back--slunk back, starving for
+your damned poison and shivering with cold.  You've settled
+the first part of the business, but the cold has still to be
+reckoned with.  Drink the tea.  I've something to say to you."
+He mastered his vehemence, and, walking to the window, stood
+looking down into the court.  His eyes were blank, his face
+hard; his ears heard nothing but the faint sound of Chilcote's
+swallowing, the click of the cup against his teeth.
+
+For a time that seemed interminable he stood motionless; then,
+when he judged the tea finished, he turned slowly.  Chilcote
+had drawn closer to the fire.  He was obviously braced by the
+warmth; and the apathy that hung about him was to some extent
+dispelled.  Still moving slowly, Loder went towards him, and,
+relieving him of the empty cup, stood looking down at him.
+
+"Chilcote," he said, very quietly, "I've come to fell you that
+the thing must end."
+
+After he spoke there was a prolonged pause; then, as if shaken
+with sudden consciousness, Chilcote rose.  The rug dropped
+from one shoulder and hung down ludicrously; his hand caught
+the back of the chair for support; his unshaven face looked
+absurd and repulsive in its sudden expression of scared
+inquiry.  Loder involuntarily turned away.
+
+"I mean it," he said, slowly.  "It's over; we've come to the
+end."
+
+"But why?" Chilcote articulated, blankly.  "Why?  Why?"  In
+his confusion he could think of no better word.
+
+"Because I throw it up.  My side of the bargain's off!"
+
+Again Chilcote's lips parted stammeringly.  The apathy caused
+by physical exhaustion and his recently administered drug was
+passing from him; the hopelessly shattered condition of mind
+and body was showing through it like a skeleton through a thin
+covering of flesh.
+
+"But why?" he said again.  "Why?"
+
+Still Loder avoided the frightened surprise of his, eyes.
+"Because I withdraw," he answered, doggedly.
+
+Then suddenly Chilcote's tongue was loosened.  "Loder," he
+cried, excitedly, "you can't do it!  God!  man, you can't do
+it!"  To reassure himself he laughed--a painfully thin echo of
+his old, sarcastic laugh.  "If it's a matter of greater
+opportunity--" he began, "of more money--"
+
+But Loder turned upon him.
+
+"Be quiet!" he said, so menacingly that the other stopped.
+Then by an effort he conquered himself, "It's not a matter of
+money, Chilcote," he said, quietly; "it's a matter of
+necessity."  He brought the word out with difficulty.
+
+Chilcote glanced up.  "Necessity?" he repeated. "How?  Why?"
+
+The reiteration roused Loder.  "Because there was a great
+scene in the House last night," he began, hurriedly; "because
+when you go back you'll find that Sefborough has smashed up
+over the assassination of Sir William Brice-Field at Meshed,
+and that you have made your mark in a big speech; and because
+--"  Abruptly he stopped.  The thing he had come to say--the
+thing he had meant to say--would not be said.  Either his
+tongue or his resolution failed him, and for the instant he
+stood as silent and almost as ill at ease as his companion.
+Then all at once inspiration came to him, in the suggestion of
+a wellnigh forgotten argument by which he might influence
+Chilcote and save his own self-respect.  "It's all over,
+Chilcote," he said, more quietly; "it has run itself out."
+And in a dozen sentences he sketched the story of Lillian
+Astrupp--her past relations with himself, her present
+suspicions.  It was not what he had meant to say; it was not
+what he had come to say; but it served the purpose--it saved
+him humiliation.
+
+Chilcote listened to the last word; then, as the other
+finished, he dropped nervously back into his chair.  "Good
+heavens!  man," he said, "why didn't you tell me--why didn't
+you warn me, instead of filling my mind with your political
+position?  Your political position!"  He laughed unsteadily.
+The long spells of indulgence that had weakened his already
+maimed faculties showed in the laugh, in the sudden breaking
+of his voice.  "You must do something, Loder!" he added,
+nervously, checking his amusement; "you must do something!"
+
+Loder looked down at him.  "No," he said, decisively.  "It's
+your turn now.  It's you who've got to do something."
+
+Chilcote's face turned a shade grayer.  "I can't," he said,
+below his breath.
+
+"Can't?  Oh yes, you can.  We can all do--anything.  It's not
+too late; there's just sufficient time.  Chilcote," he added,
+suddenly, "don't you see that the thing has been madness all
+along--has been like playing with the most infernal explosives?
+You may thank whatever you have faith in that nobody has been
+smashed up!  You are going back.  Do you understand me?  You
+are going back--now, to-day, before it's too late."  There was
+a great change in Loder; his strong, imperturbable face was
+stirred; he was moved in both voice and manner.  Time after
+time he repeated his injunction--reasoning, expostulating,
+insisting.  It almost seemed that he fought some strenuous
+invisible force rather than the shattered man before him.
+
+Chilcote moved nervously in his seat.  It was the first real
+clash of personalities.  He felt it--recognized it by
+instinct.  The sense of domination had fallen on him; he knew
+himself impotent in the other's hands.  Whatever he might
+attempt in moments of solitude, he possessed no voice in
+presence of this invincible second self.  For a while he
+struggled--he did not fight, he struggled to resist--then,
+lifting his eyes, he met Loder's.  "And what will you do?" he
+said, weakly.
+
+Loder returned his questioning gaze; but almost immediately he
+turned aside.  "I?" he said.  "Oh, I shall leave London."
+
+
+
+
+XXVII
+
+
+But Loder did not leave London.  And the hour of two on the
+day following his dismissal of Chilcote found him again in his
+sitting-room.
+
+He sat at the centre-table surrounded by a cloud of smoke; a
+pipe was between his lips and the morning's newspapers lay in
+a heap beside his elbow.  To the student of humanity his
+attitude was intensely interesting.  It was the attitude of a
+man trammelled by the knowledge of his strength.  Before him,
+as he sat smoking, stretched a future of absolute nothingness;
+and towards this blank future one portion of his consciousness
+--a struggling and as yet scarcely sentient portion--pushed
+him inevitably; while another--a vigorous, persistent, human
+portion--cried to him to pause.  So actual, so clamorous was
+this silent mental combat that had raged unceasingly since
+the moment of his renunciation that at last in physical
+response to it he pushed back his chair.
+
+"It's too late!" he said, aloud.  "I'm a fool.  It's too
+late!"
+
+Then abruptly, astonishingly, as though in direct response to
+his spoken thought, the door opened and Chilcote walked into
+the room.
+
+Slowly Loder rose and stared at him.  The feeling he
+acknowledged to himself was anger; but below the anger a very
+different sensation ran riotously strong.
+
+And it was in time to this second feeling, this sudden,
+lawless joy, that his pulses beat as he turned a cold face on
+the intruder.
+
+"Well?" he said, sternly.
+
+But Chilcote was impervious to sternness.  He was mentally
+shaken and distressed, though outwardly irreproachable, even
+to the violets in the lapel of his coat--the violets that for
+a week past had been brought each morning to the door of
+Loder's rooms by Eve's maid.  For one second, as Loder's eyes'
+rested on the flowers, a sting of ungovernable jealousy shot
+through him; then as suddenly it died away, superseded by
+another feeling--a feeling of new, spontaneous joy.  Worn by
+Chilcote or by himself, the flowers were a symbol!
+
+"Well?" he said again, in a gentler voice.
+
+Chilcote had walked to the table and laid down his hat.  His
+face was white and the muscles of his lips twitched nervously
+as he drew off his gloves.
+
+"Thank Heaven, you're here!" he said, shortly.  "Give me
+something to drink."
+
+In silence Loder brought out the whiskey and set it on the
+table; then instinctively he turned aside.  As plainly as
+though he saw the action, he mentally figured Chilcote's
+furtive glance, the furtive movement of his fingers to his
+waistcoat-pocket, the hasty dropping of the tabloids into the
+glass.  For an instant the sense of his tacit connivance came
+to him sharply; the next, he flung it from him.  The human,
+inner voice was whispering its old watchword.  The strong man
+has no time to waste over his weaker brother!
+
+When he heard Chilcote lay down his tumbler he looked back
+again.  "Well, what is it?" he said.  "What have you come
+for?"  He strove resolutely to keep his voice severe, but, try
+as he might, he could not quite subdue the eager force that
+lay behind his words.  Once again, as on the night of their
+second interchange, life had become a phoenix, rising to fresh
+existence even while he sifted its ashes.  "Well?" he said,
+once again.
+
+Chilcote had set down his glass.  He was nervously passing his
+handkerchief across his lips.  There was something in the
+gesture that attracted Loder.  Looking at him more attentively,
+he saw what his own feelings and the other's conventional dress
+had blinded him to--the almost piteous panic and excitement
+in his visitor's eyes.
+
+"Something's gone wrong!" he said, with abrupt intuition.
+
+Chilcote started.  "Yes--no--that is, yes," he stammered.
+
+Loder moved round the table.  "Something's gone wrong," he
+repeated.  "And you've come to tell me."
+
+The tone unnerved Chilcote; he suddenly dropped into a chair.
+"It--it wasn't my fault," he began.  "I--I have had a horrible
+time!"
+
+Loder's lips tightened.  "Yes," he said, "yes--I understand."
+
+The other glanced up with a gleam of his old suspicion "'Twas
+all my nerves, Loder--"
+
+"Of course.  Yes, of course."  Loder's interruption was curt.
+
+Chilcote eyed him doubtfully.  Then recollection took the
+place of doubt, and a change passed over his expression.  "It
+wasn't my fault," he began, hastily.  "On my soul, it wasn't!
+It was Crapham's beastly fault for showing her into the
+morning-room--"
+
+Loder kept silent.  His curiosity had flared into sudden life
+at the other's words, but he feared to break the shattered
+train of thought even by a word.
+
+In the silence Chilcote moved uneasily.  "You see," he went
+on, at last, "when I was here with you I--I felt strong.  I
+--I--"  He stopped.
+
+"Yes, yes.  When you were here with me you felt strong."
+
+"Yes, that's it.  While I was here, I felt I could do the
+thing.  But when I went home--when I went up to my rooms--"
+Again he paused, passing his handkerchief across his forehead.
+
+"When you went up to your rooms?"  Loder strove hard to keep
+his control.
+
+"To my room--?  Oh, I--I forget about that.  I forget about
+the night"  He hesitated confusedly.  "All I remember is the
+coming down to breakfast next morning--this morning--at twelve
+o'clock--"
+
+Loder turned to the table and poured himself out some whiskey.
+"Yes," he acquiesced, in a very quiet voice.
+
+At the word Chilcote rose from his seat.  His disquietude was
+very evident.  "Oh, there was breakfast on the table when I
+came down-stairs--breakfast with flowers and a horrible,
+dazzling glare of sun.  It was then, Loder, as I stood and
+looked into the room, that the impossibility of it all came to
+me--that I knew I couldn't stand it--couldn't go on."
+
+Loder swallowed his whiskey slowly.  His sense of overpowering
+curiosity held him very still; but he made no effort to prompt
+his companion.
+
+Again Chilcote shifted his position agitatedly.  "It, had to
+be done," he said, disjointedly.  "I had to do it--then and
+there.  The things were on the bureau--the pens and ink and
+telegraph forms.  They tempted me."
+
+Loder laid down his glass suddenly.  An exclamation rose to
+his lips, but he checked it.
+
+At the slight sound of the tumbler touching the table Chilcote
+turned; but there was no expression on the other's face to
+affright him.
+
+"They tempted me," he repeated, hastily.  "They seemed like
+magnets--they seemed to draw me towards them.  I sat at the
+bureau staring at them for a long time; then a terrible
+compulsion seized me--something you could never understand
+--and I caught up the nearest pen and wrote just what was in
+my mind.  It wasn't a telegram, properly speaking--it was more
+a letter.  I wanted you back and I had to make myself plain.
+The writing of the message seemed to steady me; the mere
+forming of the words quieted my mind.  I was almost cool when
+I got up from the bureau and pressed the bell--"
+
+"The bell?"
+
+"Yes.  I rang for a servant.  I had to send the wire myself,
+so I had to get a cab."  His voice rose to irritability.  "I
+pressed the bell several times; but the thing had gone wrong
+--'twouldn't work.  At last I gave it up and went into the
+corridor to call some one."
+
+"Well?"  In the intense suspense of the moment the word
+escaped Loder.
+
+"Oh, I went out of the room; but there at the door, before I
+could call anybody, I knocked up against that idiot Greening.
+He was looking for me--for you, rather--about some beastly
+Wark affair.  I tried to explain that I wasn't in a state for
+business; I tried to shake him off, but he was worse than
+Blessington.  At last, to be rid of the fellow, I went with
+him to the study--"
+
+"But the telegram?" Loder began; then again he checked
+himself.  "Yes--yes--I understand," he added, quietly.
+
+"I'm getting to the telegram!  I wish you wouldn't jar me with
+sudden questions.  I wasn't in the study more than a minute
+--more than five or six minutes--"  His voice became confused;
+the strain of the connected recital was telling upon him.
+With nervous haste he made a rush for the end of his story.
+"I wasn't more than seven or eight minutes in the study; then,
+as I came down-stairs, Crapham met me in the hall.  He told me
+that Lillian Astrupp had called and wished to see me.  And
+that he had shown her into the morningroom--"
+
+"The morning-room?"  Loder suddenly stepped back from the
+table.  "The morning-room?  With your telegram lying on the
+bureau?"
+
+His sudden speech and movement startled Chilcote.  The blood
+rushed to his face, then died out, leaving it ashen.  "Don't
+do that, Loder!" he cried.  "I--I can't bear it!"
+
+With an immense effort Loder controlled himself.  "Sorry!" he
+said.  "Go on!"
+
+"I'm going on!  I tell you I'm going on.  I got a horrid shock
+when Chapham told me.  Your story came clattering through my
+mind.  I knew Lillian had come to see you--I knew there was
+going to be a scene--"
+
+"But the, telegram?  The telegram?"
+
+Chilcote paid no heed to the interruption.  He was following
+his own train of ideas.  "I knew she had come to see you--I
+knew there was going to be a scene.  When I got to the
+morning-room my hand was shaking so that I could scarcely turn
+the handle; then, as the door opened, I could have cried out
+with relief.  Eve was there as well!"
+
+"Eve?"
+
+"Yes.  I don't think I was ever so glad to see her in my
+life."  He laughed almost hysterically.  "I was quite civil to
+her, and she was--quite sweet to me--"  Again he laughed.
+
+Loder's lips tightened.
+
+"You see, it saved the situation.  Even if Lillian wanted to
+be nasty, she couldn't, while Eve was there.  We talked for
+about ten minutes.  We were quite an amiable trio.  Then
+Lillian told me why she'd called.  She wanted me to make a
+fourth in a theatre party at the 'Arcadian' to-night, and I
+--I was so pleased and so relieved that I said yes!"  He
+paused and laughed again unsteadily.
+
+In his tense anxiety, Loder ground his heel into the floor.
+"Go on!" he said, fiercely.  "Go on!"
+
+"Don't!" Chilcote exclaimed.  "I'm going on--I'm going on."
+He passed his handkerchief across his lips.  "We talked for
+ten minutes or so, and then Lillian left.  I went with her to
+the hall door, but Chapham was there too--so I was still safe.
+She laughed and chatted and seemed in high spirits as we
+crossed the hall, and she was still smiling as she waved to me
+from her motor.  But then, Loder--then, as I stood in the
+hall, it all came to me suddenly.  I remembered that Lillian
+must have been alone in the morning-room before Eve
+found her!  I remembered the telegram!  I ran back to the
+room, meaning to question Eve as to how long Lillian had been
+alone, but she had left the room.  I ran to the bureau
+--but the telegram wasn't there!"
+
+"Gone?"
+
+"Yes, gone.  That's why I've come straight here."
+
+For a moment they confronted each other.  Then, moved by a
+sudden impulse, Loder pushed Chilcote aside and crossed the
+room.  An instant later the opening and shutting of doors, the
+hasty pulling out of drawers and moving of boxes, came from
+the bedroom.
+
+Chilcote, shaken and nervous, stood for a minute where his
+companion had left him; at last, impelled by curiosity, he too
+crossed the narrow passage and entered the second room.
+
+The full light streamed in through the open window; the keen
+spring air blew freshly across the house-tops; and on the
+window-sill a band of grimy, joyous sparrows twittered and
+preened themselves.  In the middle of the room stood Loder.
+His coat was off, and round him on chairs and floor lay an
+array of waistcoats, gloves, and ties.
+
+For a space Chilcote stood in the doorway staring at him; then
+his lips parted and he took a step forward.  "Loder--" he
+said, anxiously.  "Loder, what are you going to do?"
+
+Loder turned.  His shoulders were stiff, his face alight with
+energy.  "I'm going back," he said, "to unravel the tangle you
+have made."
+
+
+
+
+XXVIII
+
+
+Loder's plan of action was arrived at before he reached
+Trafalgar Square.  The facts of the case were simple.
+Chilcote had left an incriminating telegram on the bureau in
+the morning-room at Grosvenor Square; by an unlucky chance
+Lillian Astrupp had been shown up into that room, where she
+had remained alone until the moment that Eve, either by
+request or by accident, had found her there.  The facts
+resolved themselves into one question.  What use had Lillian
+made of those solitary moments?  Without deviation, Loder's
+mind turned towards one answer.  Lillian was not the woman to
+lose an opportunity, whether the space at her command were
+long or short.  True, Eve too had been alone in the room,
+while Chilcote had accompanied Lillian to the door; but of
+this he made small account.  Eve had been there, but Lillian
+had been there first.  Judging by precedent, by personal
+character, by all human probability, it was not to be supposed
+that anything would have been left for the second comer.
+
+So convinced was he that, reaching Trafalgar Square, he
+stopped and hailed a hansom.
+
+"Cadogan Gardens!" he called.  "No. 33."
+
+The moments seemed very few before the cab drew up beside the
+curb and he caught his second glimpse of the enamelled door
+with its silver fittings.  The white and silver gleamed in the
+sunshine; banks of cream colored hyacinths clustered on the
+window-sills, filling the clear air with a warm and fragrant
+scent.  With that strange sensation of having lived through
+the scene before, Loder left the cab and walked up the steps.
+Instantly he pressed the bell the door was opened by Lillian's
+discreet, deferential man-servant.
+
+"Is Lady Astrupp at home?" he asked.
+
+The man looked thoughtful.  "Her ladyship lunched at home,
+sir--" he began, cautiously.
+
+But Loder interrupted him.  "Ask her to see me," he said,
+laconically.
+
+The servant expressed no surprise.  His only comment was to
+throw the door wide.
+
+"If you'll wait in the white room, sir," he said, "I'll inform
+her ladyship."  Chilcote was evidently a frequent and a
+favored visitor.
+
+In this manner Loder for the second time entered the house so
+unfamiliar--and yet so familiar in all that it suggested.
+Entering the drawing-room, he had leisure to look about him.
+It was a beautiful room, large and lofty; luxury was evident
+on every hand, but it was not the luxury that palls or
+offends.  Each object was graceful, and possessed its own
+intrinsic value.  The atmosphere was too effeminate to appeal
+to him, but he acknowledged the taste and artistic delicacy it
+conveyed.  Almost at the moment of acknowledgment the door
+opened to admit Lillian.
+
+She wore the same gown of pale-colored cloth, warmed and
+softened by rich furs, that she had worn on the day she and
+Chilcote had driven in the park.
+
+She was drawing on her gloves as she came into the room; and
+pausing near the door, she looked across at Loder and, laughed
+in her slow, amused way.
+
+"I thought it would be you," she said, enigmatically.
+
+Loder came forward.  "You expected me?" he said, guardedly.  A
+sudden conviction filled him that it was not the evidence of
+her eyes, but something at once subtler and more definite,
+that prompted her recognition of him.
+
+She smiled.  "Why should I expect you?  On the contrary, I'm
+waiting to know why you're here?"
+
+He was silent for an instant; then he answered in her own
+light tone.  "As far as that goes," he said, "let's make it my
+duty call-having dined with you.  I'm an old-fashioned
+person."
+
+For a full second she surveyed him amusedly; then at last she
+spoke.  "My dear Jack"--she laid particular stress on the
+name--"  I never imagined you punctilious.  I should have
+thought bohemian would have been more the word."
+
+Loder felt disconcerted and annoyed.  Either, like himself,
+she was fishing for information, or she was deliberately
+playing with him.  In his perplexity he glanced across the
+room towards the fireplace.
+
+Lillian saw the look.  "Won't you sit down?" she said,
+indicating the couch.  "I promise not to make you smoke.  I
+sha'n't even ask you to take off your gloves!"
+
+Loder made no movement.  His mind was unpleasantly upset.  It
+was nearly a fortnight since he had seen Lillian, and in the
+interval her attitude had changed, and the change puzzled him.
+It might mean the philosophy of a woman who, knowing herself
+without adequate weapons, withdraws from a combat that has
+proved fruitless; or it might imply the merely catlike desire
+to toy with a certainty.  He looked quickly at the delicate
+face, the green eyes somewhat obliquely set, the unreliable
+mouth; and instantly he inclined to the latter theory.  The
+conviction that she possessed the telegram filled him
+suddenly, and with it came the desire to put his belief to the
+test--to know beyond question whether her smiling unconcern
+meant malice or mere entertainment.
+
+"When you first came into the room," he said, quietly, "you
+said 'I thought it would be you.'  Why did you say that?"
+
+Again she smiled--the smile that might be malicious or might
+be merely amused.  "Oh," she answered at last, "I only meant
+that though I had been told Jack Chilcote wanted me, it wasn't
+Jack Chilcote I expected to see!"
+
+After her statement there was a pause.  Loder's position was
+difficult.  Instinctively convinced that, strong in the
+possession of her proof, she was enjoying his tantalized
+discomfort, he yet craved the actual evidence that should set
+his suspicions to rest.  Acting upon the desire, he made a new
+beginning.
+
+"Do you know why I came?" he asked.
+
+Lillian looked up innocently.  "It's so hard to be certain of
+anything in this world," she said.  "But one is always at
+liberty to guess."
+
+Again he was perplexed.  Her attitude was not quite the
+attitude of one who controls the game, and yet--He looked at
+her with a puzzled scrutiny.  Women for him had always spelled
+the incomprehensible; he was at his best, his strongest, his
+surest in the presence of men.  Feeling his disadvantage, yet
+determined to gain his end, he made a last attempt.
+
+"How did you amuse yourself at Grosvenor Square this morning
+before Eve came to you?" he asked.  The effort was awkwardly
+blunt, but it was direct.
+
+Lillian was buttoning her glove.  She did not raise her head
+as he spoke, but her fingers paused in their task.  For a
+second she remained motionless, then she looked up slowly.
+
+"Oh," she said, sweetly, "so I was right in my guess?  You did
+come to find out whether I sat in the morning-room with my
+hands in my lap--or wandered about in search of entertainment?"
+
+Loder colored with annoyance and apprehension.  Every look,
+every tone of Lillian's was distasteful to him.  No microscope
+could have revealed her more fully to him than did his own
+eyesight.  But it was not the moment for personal antipathies;
+there were other interests than his own at stake.  With new
+resolution he returned her glance.
+
+"Then I must still ask my first question, why did you say, 'I
+thought it would be you?'"  His gaze was direct--so direct
+that it disconcerted her.  She laughed a little uneasily.
+
+"Because I knew."
+
+"How did you know?"
+
+"Because--" she began; then again she laughed.  "Because," she
+added, quickly, as if moved by a fresh impulse, "Jack Chilcote
+made it very obvious to any one who was in his morning-room at
+twelve o'clock today that it would be you and not he who would
+be found filling his place this afternoon!  It's all very well
+to talk about honor, but when one walks into an empty room and
+sees a telegram as long as a letter open on a bureau--"
+
+But her sentence was never finished.  Loder had heard what he
+came to hear; any confession she might have to offer was of no
+moment in his eyes.
+
+"My dear girl," he broke in, brusquely, "don't trouble!  I
+should make a most unsatisfactory father confessor."  He spoke
+quickly.  His color was still high, but not of annoyance.  His
+suspense was transformed into unpleasant certainty; but the
+exchange left him surer of himself.  His perplexity had dropped
+to a quiet sense of self-reliance; his paramount desire was for
+solitude in which to prepare for the task that lay before him;
+the most congenial task the world possessed--the unravelling
+of Chilcote's tangled skeins.  Looking into Lillian's eyes, he
+smiled.  "Good-bye!" he said, holding out his hand.  "I think
+we've finished--for to-day."
+
+She slowly extended her fingers.  Her expression and attitude
+were slightly puzzled--a puzzlement that was either
+spontaneous or singularly well assumed.  As their hands
+touched she smiled again.
+
+"Will you drop in at the 'Arcadian' to-night?" she said.
+"It's the dramatized version of 'Other Men's Shoes!'  The
+temptation to make you see it was too irresistible--as you
+know."
+
+There was a pause while she waited for his answer--her head
+inclined to one side, her green eyes gleaming.
+
+Loder, conscious of her regard, hesitated for a moment.  Then
+his face cleared.  "Right!" he said, slowly.  "'The Arcadian'
+tonight!"
+
+
+
+
+XXIX
+
+
+Loder's frame of mind as he left Cadogan Gardens was peculiar.
+Once more he was living in the present--the forceful,
+exhilarating present, and the knowledge braced him.  Upon one
+point his mind was satisfied.  Lillian Astrupp had found the
+telegram, and it remained to him to render her find valueless.
+How he proposed to do this, how he proposed to come out
+triumphant in face of such a situation, was a matter that as
+yet was shapeless in his mind; nevertheless, the danger--the
+sense of impending conflict--had a savor of life after the
+inaction of the day and night just passed.  Chilcote in his
+weakness and his entanglement had turned to him; and he in his
+strength and capacity had responded to the appeal.
+
+His step was firm and his bearing assured as he turned into
+Grosvenor Square and walked towards the familiar house.
+
+The habit of self-deceit is as insidious and tenacious as any
+vice.  For one moment on the night of his great speech, as he
+leaned out of Chilcote's carriage and met Chilcote's eyes,
+Loder had seen himself--and under the shock of revelation had
+taken decisive action.  But in the hours subsequent to that
+action the plausible, inner voice had whispered unceasingly,
+soothing his wounded self-esteem, rebuilding stone by stone
+the temple of his egotism; until at last when Chilcote,
+panic-stricken at his own action, had burst into his rooms
+ready to plead or to coerce, he had found no need for either
+coercion or entreaty.  By a power more subtle and effective
+ than any at his command, Loder had been prepared for his
+coming--unconsciously ready with an acquiescence before
+his appeal had been made.  It was the fruit of this preparation,
+the inevitable outcome of it, that strengthened his step and
+steadied his hand as he mounted the steps and opened the hall
+door of Chilcote's house on that eventful afternoon.
+
+The, dignity, the air of quiet solidity, impressed him as it
+never failed to do, as he crossed the large hall and ascended
+the stairs--the same stairs that he had passed down almost as
+an outcast not so many hours before.  He was filled with the
+sense of things regained; belief in his own star lifted him as
+it had done a hundred times before in these same surroundings.
+
+He quickened his steps as the sensation came to him.  Then,
+reaching the head of the stairs, he turned directly towards
+Eve's sitting-room, and, gaining the door, knocked.  The
+strength of his eagerness, the quick beating of his pulse as
+he waited for a response, surprised him.  He had told himself
+many times that his passion, however strong, would never again
+conquer as it had done two nights ago--and the fact that he
+had come thus candidly to Eve's room was to his mind a proof
+that temptation could be dared.  Nevertheless there was
+something disconcerting to a strong man in this merely
+physical perturbation; and when Eve's voice came to him,
+giving permission to enter, he paused for an instant to steady
+himself; then with sudden decision he opened the door and
+walked into the room.
+
+The blinds were partly drawn, there was a scent of violets in
+the air, and a fire glowed warmly in the grate.  He noted
+these things carefully, telling himself that a man should
+always be alertly sensible of his surroundings; then all at
+once the nice balancing of detail suddenly gave way.  He
+forgot everything but the one circumstance that Eve was
+standing in the window--her back to the light, her face
+towards him.  With his pulses beating faster and an unsteady
+sensation in his brain, he moved forward holding out his hand.
+
+"Eve--?" he said below his breath.
+
+But Eve remained motionless.  As he came into the room she had
+glanced at him--a glance of quick, searching question; then
+with equal suddenness she had averted her eyes.  As he drew
+close to her now, she remained immovable.
+
+"Eve--" he said again.  "I wanted to see you--I wanted to
+explain about yesterday and about this morning."  He paused,
+suddenly disturbed.  The full remembrance of the scene in the
+brougham had surged up at sight of her--had risen a fierce,
+unquenchable recollection.  "Eve--" he began again in a new,
+abrupt tone.
+
+And then it was that Eve showed herself in a fresh light.
+From his entrance into the room she had stayed motionless,
+save for her first glance of acute inquiry; but now her
+demeanor changed.  For almost the first time in Loder's
+knowledge of her the vitality and force that he had vaguely
+apprehended below her quiet, serene exterior sprang up like a
+flame within whose radius things are illuminated.  With a
+quick gesture she turned towards him, her warm color
+deepening, her eyes suddenly alight.
+
+"I understand," she said, "I understand.  Don't try to explain!
+Can't you see that it's enough to--to see you as you are--?"
+
+Loder was surprised.  Remembering their last passionate scene,
+and the damper Chilcote's subsequent presence must inevitably
+have cast upon it, he had expected to be doubtfully received;
+but the reality of the reception left him bewildered.  Eve's
+manner was not that of the ill-used wife; its vehemence, its
+note of desire and depreciation, were more suggestive of his
+own ardent seizing of the present, as distinguished from past
+or future.  With an odd sense of confusion he turned to her
+afresh.
+
+"Then I am forgiven?" he said.  And unconsciously, as he moved
+nearer, he touched her arm.
+
+At his touch she started.  All the yielding sweetness, all the
+submission, that had marked her two nights ago was gone; in
+its place she was possessed by a curious excitement that
+stirred while it perplexed.
+
+Loder, moved by the sensation, took another step forward.
+"Then I am forgiven?" he repeated, more softly.
+
+Her face was averted as he spoke, but he felt hen arm quiver;
+and when at last she lifted her head, their eyes met.  Neither
+spoke, but in an instant Loder's arms were round her.
+
+For a long, silent space they stood holding each other closely.
+Then, with a sharp movement, Eve freed Herself.  Her color was
+still high, her eyes still peculiarly bright, but the bunch of
+violets she had worn in her belt had fallen to the ground.
+
+"John--" she said, quickly; but on the word her breath caught.
+With a touch of nervousness she stooped to pick up the
+flowers.
+
+Loder noticed both voice and gesture.  "What is it?" he said.
+"What were you going to say?"
+
+But she made no answer.  For a second longer she searched for
+the violets; then, as he bent to assist her, she stood up
+quickly and laughed--a short, embarrassed laugh.
+
+"How absurd and nervous I am!" she exclaimed.  "Like a
+schoolgirl instead of a woman of twenty-four.  You must help
+me to be sensible."  Her cheeks still burned, her manner was
+still excited, like one who holds an emotion or an impulse at
+bay.
+
+Loder looked at her uncertainly.  "Eve--" he began afresh with
+his odd, characteristic perseverance, but she instantly
+checked him.  There was a finality, a faint suggestion of
+fear, in her protest.
+
+"Don't!" she said.  "Don't!  I don't want explanations.  I
+want to--to enjoy the moment without having things analyzed or
+smoothed away.  Can't you understand?  Can't you see that I'm
+wonderfully, terribly happy to--to have you--as you are!"
+Again her voice broke--a break that might have been a laugh or
+a sob.
+
+The sound was an emotional crisis, as such a sound invariably
+is.  It arrested and steadied her.  For a moment she stood
+absolutely still; then, with something very closely resembling
+her old repose of manner, she stooped again and quietly picked
+up the flowers still lying at her feet.
+
+"Now," she said, quietly, "I must say what I've wanted to say
+all along.  How does it feel to be a great man?"  Her manner
+was controlled, she looked at him evenly and directly; save
+for the faint vibration in her voice there was nothing to
+indicate the tumult of a moment ago.
+
+But Loder was still uncertain.  He caught her hand, his eyes
+searching hers.
+
+"But Eve--" he began.
+
+Then Eve played the last card in her mysterious game.
+Laughing quickly and nervously, she freed her hand and laid it
+over his mouth.
+
+"No!" she said.  "Not one word!  All this past fortnight has
+belonged to you; now it's my turn.  To-day is mine."
+
+
+
+
+XXX
+
+
+And so, once again, the woman conquered.  Whatever Eve's
+intentions were, whatever she wished to evade or ward off, she
+was successful in gaining her end.  For more than two hours
+she kept Loder at her side.  There may have been moments in
+those two hours when the tension was high, when the efforts
+she made to interest and hold him were somewhat strained.
+But if this was so, it escaped the notice of the one person
+concerned; for it was long after tea had been served, long
+after Eve had offered to do penance for her monopoly of him
+by driving him to Chilcote's club, that Loder realized with
+any degree of distinctness that it was she and not he who
+had taken the lead in their interview; that it was she and
+not he who had bridged the difficult silences and given a
+fresh direction to dangerous channels of talk.  It was long
+before he recognized this; but it was still longer before
+he realized the far more potent fact that, without any
+coldness, without any lessening of the subtle consideration
+she always showed him, she had given him no further
+opportunity of making love.
+
+Talking continuously, elated with the sense of conflict still
+to come, he drove with her to the club.  Considering that
+drive in the light of after events, his own frame of mind
+invariably filled him with incredulity.
+
+In the eyes of any sane man his position was not worth an
+hour's purchase; yet in the blind self-confidence of the
+moment he would not have changed places with Fraide himself.
+The great song of Self was sounding in his ears as he drove
+through the crowded streets, conscious of the cool, crisp air,
+of Eve's close presence, of the numberless infinitesimal
+things that went to make up the value of life.  It was this
+acknowledgment of personality that upheld him; the
+personality, the power that had carried him unswervingly
+through eleven colorless years; that had impelled him towards
+this new career when the new career had first been opened to
+him; that had hewn a way for him in this fresh existence
+against colossal odds.  The indomitable force that had
+trampled out Chilcote's footmarks in public life, in private
+life--in love.  It was a triumphant paean that clamored in his
+ears, something persistent and prophetic with an undernote of
+menace.  The cry of the human soul that has dared to stand
+alone.
+
+His glance was keen and bright as he waited for a moment at
+the carriage door and took Eve's hand before entering the
+club.
+
+"You're dining out to-night?" he said.  His fingers, always
+tenacious and masterful, continued to hold hers.  The
+compunction that had driven him temporarily towards sacrifice
+had passed.  His pride, his confidence, and with them his
+desire, had flowed back in full measure.
+
+Eve, watching him attentively, paled a little.  "Yes," she
+said, "I'm dining with the Bramfells."
+
+"What time will you get home?"  He scarcely realized why he
+put the question.  The song of Self still sounded
+triumphantly, and he responded without reflection.
+
+His eyes held hers, his fingers pressed her hand; the intense
+mastery of his will passed through her in a sudden sense of
+fear.  Her lips parted in deprecation, but he--closely
+attentive of her expression--spoke again quickly.
+
+"When can I see you?" he asked, very quietly.
+
+Again she was about to speak.  She leaned forward, as if some
+thought long suppressed trembled on her lips; then her courage
+or her desire failed her.  She leaned back, letting her lashes
+droop over her eyes.  "I shall be home at eleven," she said
+below her breath.
+
+Loder dined with Lakely at Chilcote's club; and so absorbing
+were the political interests of the hour--the resignation of
+Sir Robert Sefborough, the King's summoning of Fraide, the
+probable features of the new ministry--that it was after nine
+o'clock when at last he freed himself and drove to the
+"Arcadian" Theatre.
+
+The sound of music came to him as he entered the theatre
+--light, measured music suggestive of tiny streams, toy
+lambs, and painted shepherdesses.  It sounded singularly
+inappropriate to his mood--as inappropriate as the theatre
+itself with its gay gilding, its pale tones of pink and blue.
+It was the setting of a different world--a world of laughter,
+light thoughts, and shallow impulses, in which he had no
+part.  He halted for an instant outside the box to which the
+attendant had shown him; then, as the door was thrown open, he
+straightened himself resolutely and stepped forward.
+
+It was the interval between the first and second acts.
+
+The box was in shadow, and Loder's first impression was of
+voices and rustling skirts, broken in upon by the murmur of
+frequent, amused laughter; later, as his eyes grew accustomed
+to the light, he distinguished the occupants--two women and a
+man.  The man was speaking as he entered, and the story he was
+relating was evidently interesting from the faint exclamations
+of question and delight that punctuated it in the listeners'
+higher, softer voices.  As the new-comer entered they all
+three turned and looked at him.
+
+"Ah, here comes the legislator!" exclaimed Leonard Kaine.  For
+it was he who formed the male element in the party.
+
+"The Revolutionary, Lennie!" Lillian corrected, softly.
+"Bramfell says he has changed the whole face of things--"
+She laughed softly and meaningly as she closed her fan.  "So
+good of you to come, Jack!" she added.  "Let me introduce you
+to Miss Esseltyn; I don't think you two have met.  This is
+Mr. Chilcote, Mary--the great, new Mr. Chilcote."  Again she
+laughed.
+
+Loder bowed and moved to the front of the box, nodding to
+Kaine as he passed.
+
+"It's only for an hour," he explained to Lillian.  "I
+have an appointment for eleven."  He turned and bowed
+to the third occupant of the box--a remarkably young and
+well-dressed girl with wide-awake eyes and a retrousse
+nose.
+
+"Only an hour!  Oh, how unkind!  How should I punish him,
+Lennie?"  Lillian looked round at Kaine with a lingering,
+caressing glance.
+
+He bent towards her in quick response and answered in a
+whisper.
+
+She laughed and replied in an equally low tone.
+
+Loder, to whom both remarks had been inaudible dropped into
+the vacant seat beside Mary Esseltyn.  He had the unsettled
+feeling that things were not falling out exactly as he had
+calculated.
+
+"What is the play like?" he hazarded as he looked towards his
+companion.  At all times social trivialities bored him;
+to-night they were intolerable.  He had come to fight, but all at
+once it seemed that there was no opponent.  Lillian's attitude
+disturbed him; her careless graciousness, her evident ignoring
+of him for Kaine, might mean nothing--but also it might mean
+much.
+
+So he speculated as he put his question and spurred his
+attention towards the girl's answer; but with the speculation
+came the resolve to hold his own--to meet his enemy upon
+whatever ground she chose to appropriate.
+
+The girl looked at him with interest.  She, too, had heard of
+his triumph.
+
+"It is a good play," she responded.  "I like it better than
+the book.  You've read the book, of course?"
+
+"No."  Loder tried hard to fix his thoughts.
+
+"It's amusing--but far-fetched."
+
+"Indeed?"  He picked up the programme lying on the edge of the
+box.  His ears were strained to catch the tone of Lillian's
+voice as she laughed and whispered with Kaine.
+
+"Yes; men exchanging identities, you know."
+
+He looked up and caught the girl's self-possessed glance.
+"Oh?" he said.  "Indeed?"  Then again he looked away.  It was
+intolerable this feeling of being caged up!  A sense of anger
+crept through his mind.  It almost seemed that Lillian had
+brought him there to prove that she had finished with him--had
+cast him aside, having used him for the day's excitement as
+she had used her poodles, her Persian cats, her crystal-gazing.
+All at once the impotency and uncertainty of his position
+goaded him.  Turning swiftly in his seat, he glanced back to
+where she sat, slowly swaying her fan, her pale, golden
+hair and her pale-colored gown delicately silhouetted against
+the background of the box.
+
+"What's your idea of the play, Lillian?" he said, abruptly.
+To his own ears there was a note of challenge in his voice.
+
+She looked round languidly.  "Oh, it's quite amusing," she
+said.  "It makes a delicious farce--absolutely French."
+
+"French?"
+
+"Quite.  Don't you think so, Lennie?"
+
+"Oh, quite," Kaine agreed.
+
+"They mean that it's so very light--and yet so very subtle,
+Mr. Chilcote," Mary Esseltyn explained.
+
+"Indeed?" he said.  "Then my imagination was at fault.  I
+thought the piece was serious."
+
+"Serious!" Lillian smiled again.  "Why, where's your sense of
+humor?  The motive of the play debars all seriousness."
+
+Loder looked down at the programme still between his hands.
+"What is the motive?" he asked.
+
+Lillian waved her fan once or twice, then closed it softly.
+"Love is the motive," she said.
+
+Now the balancing--the adjusting of impression and
+inspirationis, of all processes in life, the most deli.
+cately fine.  The simple sound of the word "love" coming
+at that precise juncture changed the whole current of
+Loder's thought.  It fell like a seed; and like a seed in
+ultra-productive soil, it bore fruit with amazing rapidity.
+
+The word itself was small and the manner in which it was
+spoken trivial, but Loder's mind was attracted and held by it.
+The last time it had met his ears his environment had been
+vastly different; and this echo of it in an uncongenial
+atmosphere stung him to resentment.  The vision of Eve, the
+thought of Eve, became suddenly dominant.
+
+"Love?" he repeated, coldly.  "So love is the motive?"
+
+"Yes."  This time it was Kaine who responded in his
+methodical, contented voice.  "The motive of the play is
+love, as Lillian says.  And when was love ever serious in a
+ three-act comedy--on or off the stage?"  He leaned forward
+in his seat, screwed in his eye-glass, and lazily scanned the
+stalls.
+
+The orchestra was playing a Hungarian dance--its erratic
+harmonies and wild alternations of expression falling abruptly
+across the pinks and blues, the gilding and lights of the
+pretty, conventional theatre.  Something in the suggestion of
+unfitness appealed to Loder.  It was the force of the real as
+opposed to the ideal.  With a new expression on his face, he
+turned again to Kaine.
+
+"And how does it work?" he said.  "This treatment that you
+find so--French?"
+
+His voice as well as his expression had changed.  He still
+spoke quietly, but he spoke with interest.  He was no longer
+conscious of his vague and uneasiness; a fresh chord had been
+struck in his mind, and his curiosity had responded to it.
+For the first time it occurred to him that love--the
+dangerous, mysterious garden whose paths had so suddenly
+stretched out before his own feet--was a pleasure-ground that
+possessed many doors--and an infinite number of keys.  He was
+stirred by the desire to peer through another entrance than
+his own, to see the secret, alluring byways from another
+stand-point.  He waited with interest for the answer to his
+question.
+
+For a second or two Kaine continued to survey the house; then
+his eye-glass dropped from his eye and he turned round.
+
+"To understand the thing," he said, pleasantly, "you must have
+read the book.  Have you read the book?"
+
+"No, Mr. Kaine," Mary Esseltyn interrupted, "Mr. Chilcote
+hasn't read the book."
+
+Lillian laughed.  "Outline the story for him, Lennie," she
+said.  "I love to see other people taking pains."
+
+Kaine glanced at her admiringly.  "Well, to begin with," he
+said, amiably, "two men, an artist and a millionaire, exchange
+lives.  See?"
+
+"You may presume that he does see, Lennie."
+
+"Right!  Well, then, as I say, these beggars change identities.
+They're as like as pins; and to all appearances one chap's the
+other chap--and the other chap's the first chap.  See?"
+
+Loder laughed.  The newly quickened interest was enhanced by
+treading on dangerous ground.
+
+"Well, they change for a lark, of course, but there's one fact
+they both overlook.  They're men, you know, and they forget
+these little things!"  He laughed delightedly.  "They overlook
+the fact that one of 'em has got a wife!"
+
+There was a crash of music from the orchestra.  Loder sat
+straighter in his seat; he was conscious that the blood had
+rushed into his face.
+
+"Oh, indeed?" he said, quickly.  "One of them had a wife?"
+
+"Exactly!" Again Kaine chuckled.  "And the point of the joke
+is that the wife is the least larky person under the sun.
+See?"
+
+A second hot wave passed over Loder's face; a sense of mental
+disgust filled him.  This, then, was the wonderful garden seen
+from another stand-point!  He looked from Lillian, graceful,
+sceptical, and shallow, to the young girl beside him, so
+frankly modern in her appreciation of life.  This, then, was
+love as seen by the eyes of the world--the world that accepts,
+judges, and condemns in a slang phrase or two!  Very slowly
+the blood receded from his face.
+
+"And the end of the story?" he asked, in a strained voice.
+
+"The end?  Oh, usual end, of course.  Chap makes a mess of
+things and the bubble bursts."
+
+"And the end of the wife?"
+
+"The end of the wife?" Lillian broke in, with a little laugh.
+"Why, the end of all stupid people who, instead of going
+through life with a lot of delightfully human stumbles, come
+just one big cropper.  She naturally ends in the divorce
+court!"
+
+They all laughed boisterously.  Then laughter, story, and
+denouement were all drowned in a tumultuous crash of music.
+The orchestra ceased; there was a slight hum of applause; and
+the curtain rose on the second act of the comedy.
+
+
+
+
+XXXI
+
+
+A few minutes before the curtain fell on the second act of
+'Other Men's Shoes' Loder rose from his seat and made his
+apologies to Lillian.
+
+At any other moment he might have pondered over her manner of
+accepting them--the easy indifference with which she let him
+go.  But vastly keener issues were claiming his attention,
+issues whose results were wide and black.
+
+He left the theatre, and, refusing the overtures of cabmen,
+set himself to walk to Chilcote's house.  His face was hard
+and emotionless as he hurried forward, but the chaos in his
+mind found expression in the unevenness of his pace.  To a
+strong man the confronting of difficulties is never alarming
+and is often fraught with inspiration; but this applies
+essentially to the difficulties evolved through the weakness,
+the folly, or the force of another; when they arise from
+within the matter is of another character.  It
+is in presence of his own soul--and in that presence alone
+--that a man may truly measure himself.
+
+As Loder walked onward, treading the whole familiar length of
+traffic-filled street, he realized for the first time that he
+was standing before that solemn tribunal that the hour had
+come when he must answer to himself for himself.  The longer
+and deeper an oblivion the more painful the awakening.  For
+months the song of self had beaten about his ears, deadening
+all other sounds; now abruptly that song had ceased--not
+considerately, not lingeringly, but with a suddenness that
+made the succeeding silence very terrible.
+
+He walked onward, keeping his direction unseeingly.  He was
+passing through the fire as surely as though actual flames
+rose about his feet; and whatever the result, whatever the
+fibre of the man who emerged from the ordeal, the John Loder
+who had hewn his way through the past weeks would exist no
+more.  The triumphant egotist--the strong man--who, by his own
+strength, had kept his eyes upon one point, refusing to see in
+other directions, had ceased to be.
+
+Keen though it was, his realization of this crisis in his life
+had come with characteristic slowness.  When Lillian Astrupp
+had given her dictum, when the music of the orchestra had
+ceased and the curtain risen on the second act of the play,
+nothing but a sense of stupefaction had filled his mind.  In
+that moment the great song was silenced, not by any portentous
+episode, not by any incident that could have lent dignity to
+its end, but--with the full measure of life's irony--by a
+trivial social commonplace.  In the first sensation of blank
+loss his faculties had been numbed; in the quarter of an hour
+that followed the rise of the curtain he had sat staring at
+the stage, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, filled with the
+enormity of the void that suddenly surrounded him.  Then, from
+habit, from constitutional tendency, he had begun slowly and
+perseveringly to draw first one thread and then another from
+the tangle of his thoughts--to forge with doubt and difficulty
+the chain that was to draw him towards the future.
+
+It was upon this same incomplete and yet tenacious chain that
+his mind worked as he traversed the familiar streets and at
+last gained the house he had so easily learned to call home.
+
+As he inserted the latch-key and felt it move smoothly in the
+lock, a momentary revolt against his own judgment, his own
+censorship swung him sharply towards reaction.  But it is only
+the blind who can walk without a tremor on the edge of an
+abyss, and there was no longer a bandage across his eyes.  The
+reaction flared up like a strip of lighted paper; then, like a
+strip of lighted paper, it dropped back to ashes.  He pushed
+the door open and slowly crossed the hall.
+
+The mounting of a staircase is often the index to a man's
+state of mind.  As Loder ascended the stairs of Chilcote's
+house his shoulders lacked their stiffness, his head was no
+longer erect; he moved as though his feet were weighted.  He
+had ceased to be the man of achievement whose smallest opinion
+compels consideration; in the privacy of solitude he was the
+mere human flotsam to which he had once compared himself--the
+flotsam that, dreaming it has found a harbor, wakes to find
+itself the prey of the incoming tide.
+
+He paused at the head of the stairs to rally his resolutions;
+then, still walking heavily, he passed down the corridor to
+Eve's room.  It was suggestive of his character that, having
+made his decision, he did not dally over its performance.
+Without waiting to knock, he turned the handle and walked into
+the room.
+
+It looked precisely as it always looked, but to Loder the
+rich, subdued coloring of books and flowers--the whole air of
+culture and repose that the place conveyed--seemed to hold a
+deeper meaning than before; and it was on the instant that his
+eyes, crossing the inanimate objects, rested on their owner
+that the true force of his position, the enormity of the task
+before him, made itself plain.  Realization came to him with
+vivid, overwhelming force; and it must be accounted to his
+credit, in the summing of his qualities, that then, in that
+moment of trial, the thought of retreat, the thought of
+yielding did not present itself.
+
+Eve was standing by the mantel-piece.  She wore a beautiful
+gown, a long string of diamonds was twisted about her neck,
+and her soft, black hair was coiled high after a foreign
+fashion, and held in place by a large diamond comb.  As he
+entered she turned hastily, almost nervously, and looked at
+him with the rapid, searching glance he had learned to expect
+from her; then, almost directly, her expression changed to one
+of quick concern.  With a faint exclamation of alarm she
+stepped forward.
+
+"What has happened?" she said.  "You look like a ghost."
+
+Loder made no answer.  Moving into the room, he paused by the
+oak table that stood between the fireplace and the door.
+
+They made an unconscious tableau as they stood there--he with
+his hard, set face, she with her heightened color, her
+inexplicably bright eyes.  They stood completely silent for a
+space--a space that for Loder held no suggestion of time;
+then, finding the tension unbearable, Eve spoke again.
+
+"Has anything happened?" she asked.  "Is any thing wrong?"
+
+Had he been less engrossed the intensity of her concern might
+have struck him; but in a mind so harassed as his there was
+only room for one consideration--the consideration of himself.
+The sense of her question reached him, but its significance
+left him untouched.
+
+"Is anything wrong?" she reiterated for the second time.
+
+By an effort he raised his eyes.  No man, he thought, since
+the beginning of the world was ever set a task so cruel as
+his.  Painfully and slowly his lips parted.
+
+"Everything in the world is wrong," he said, in a slow, hard
+voice.
+
+Eve said nothing but her color suddenly deepened.
+
+Again Loder was unobservant.  But with the dogged resolution
+that marked him he forced himself to his task.
+
+"You despise lies," he said, at last.  "Tell me what you would
+think of a man whose whole life was one elaborated lie?"  The
+words were slightly exaggerated, but their utterance, their
+painfully brusque sincerity, precluded all suggestion of
+effect.  Resolutely holding her gaze he repeated his question.
+
+"Tell me!  Answer me!  I want to know."
+
+Eve's attitude was difficult to read.  She stood twisting the
+string of diamonds between her fingers.
+
+"Tell me?" he said again.
+
+She continued to look at him for a moment; then, as if some
+fresh impulse moved her, she turned away from him towards the
+fire.
+
+"I cannot," she said.  "We--I--I could not set myself to
+judge--any one."
+
+Loder held himself rigidly in hand.
+
+"Eve," he said, quietly, "I was at the `Arcadian' to-night.
+The play was 'Other Men's Shoes.'  I suppose you've read the
+book 'Other Men's Shoes'?"
+
+She was leaning on the mantel-piece and her face was invisible
+to him.  "Yes, I have read it," she said, without looking
+round.
+
+"It is the story of an extraordinary likeness between two men.
+Do you believe such a likeness possible?  Do you think such a
+thing could exist?"  He spoke with difficulty; his brain and
+tongue both felt numb.
+
+Eve let the diamond chain slip from her fingers.  "Yes," she
+said, nervously.  "Yes, I do believe it.  Such things have
+been--"
+
+Loder caught at the words.  "You're quite right," he said,
+quickly.  "You're quite right.  The thing is possible--I've
+proved it.  I know a man so like me that you, even you, could
+not tell us apart."
+
+Eve was silent, still averting her face.
+
+In dire difficulty he labored on.  "Eve," he began once more,
+"such a likeness is a serious thing--a terrible danger--a
+terrible temptation.  Those who have no experience of it
+cannot possibly gauge its pitfalls--"  Again he paused, but
+again the silent figure by the fireplace gave him no help.
+
+"Eve," he exclaimed, suddenly, "if you only knew, if you only
+guessed what I'm trying to say--"  The perplexity, the whole
+harassed suffering of his mind showed in the words.  Loder,
+the strong, the resourceful, the self-contained, was palpably,
+painfully at a loss.  There was almost a note of appeal in the
+vibration of his voice.
+
+And Eve, standing by the fireplace, heard and understood.  In
+that moment of comprehension all that had held her silent, all
+the conflicting motives that had forbidden speech, melted away
+before the unconscious demand for help.  Quietly and yet
+quickly she turned, her whole face transfigured by a light
+that seemed to shine from within
+--something singularly soft and tender.
+
+"There's no need to say anything," she said, simply, "because
+I know."
+
+It came quietly, as most great revelations come.  Her voice
+was low and free from any excitement, her face beautiful in
+its complete unconsciousness of self.  In that supreme moment
+all her thought, all her sympathy was for the man--and his
+suffering.
+
+To Loder there was a space of incredulity; then his brain
+slowly swung to realization.  "You know?" he repeated,
+blankly.  "You know?"
+
+Without answering she walked to a cabinet that stood in the
+window, unlocked a drawer, and drew out several sheets of
+flimsy white paper, crumpled in places and closely covered
+with writing.  Without a word she carried them back and held
+them out.
+
+He took them in silence, scanned them, then looked up.
+
+In a long, worthless pause their eyes met.  It was as if each
+looked speechlessly into the other's heart, seeing the
+passions, the contradictions, the shortcomings that went to
+the making of both.  In that silence they drew closer together
+than they could have done through a torrent of words.  There
+was no asking of forgiveness, no elaborate confession on
+either side; in the deep, eloquent pause they mutually saw and
+mutually understood.
+
+"When I came into the morning-room to-day," Eve said, at last,
+"and saw Lillian Astrupp reading that telegram, nothing could
+have seemed further from me than the thought that I should
+follow her example.  It was not until afterwards; not until
+--he came into the room; until I saw that you, as I believed,
+had fallen back again from what I respected to what I
+despised--that I knew how human I really was.  As I watched
+them laugh and talk I felt suddenly that I was alone again
+--terribly alone.  I--I think--I believe I was jealous in that
+moment--"  She hesitated.
+
+"Eve!" he exclaimed.
+
+But she broke in quickly on the word.  "I felt different in
+that moment.  I didn't care about honor--or things like honor.
+After they had gone it seemed to me that I had missed
+something--something that they possessed.  Oh, you don't know
+what a woman feels when she is jealous!"  Again she paused.
+"It was then that the telegram, and the thought of Lillian's
+amused smile as she had read it, came to my mind.  Feeling as
+I did--acting on what I felt--I crossed to the bureau and
+picked it up.  In one second I had seen enough to make it
+impossible to draw back.  Oh, it may have been dishonorable,
+it may have been mean, but I wonder if any woman in the world
+would have done otherwise!  I crumpled up the papers just as
+they were and carried them to my own room."
+
+From the first to the last word of Eve's story Loder's eyes
+never left her face.  Instantly she had finished his voice
+broke forth in irrepressible question.  In that wonderful
+space of time he had learned many things.  All his deductions,
+all his apprehensions had been scattered and disproved.  He
+had seen the true meaning of Lillian Astrupp's amused
+indifference--the indifference of a variable, flippant nature
+that, robbed of any real weapon for mischief, soon tires of a
+game that promises to be too arduous.  He saw all this and
+understood it with a rapidity born of the moment;
+nevertheless, when Eve ceased to speak the question that broke
+from him was not connected with this great discovery--was not
+even suggestive of it.  It was something quite immaterial to
+any real issue, but something that overshadowed every
+consideration in the world.
+
+"Eve," he said, "tell me your first thought?  Your first
+thought after the shock and the surprise--when you remembered
+me?"
+
+There was a fresh pause, but one of very short duration; then
+Eve met his glance fearlessly and frankly.  The same pride and
+dignity, the same indescribable tenderness that had responded
+to his first appeal shone in her face.
+
+"My first thought was a great thankfulness," she said, simply.
+"A thankfulness that you--that no man--could ever understand."
+
+
+
+
+XXXIII
+
+
+As she finished speaking Eve did not lower her eyes.  To her
+there was no suggestion of shame in her thoughts or her words;
+but to Loder, watching and listening, there was a perilous
+meaning contained in both.
+
+"Thankfulness?" he repeated, slowly.  From his newly stirred
+sense of responsibility pity and sympathy were gradually
+rising.  He had never seen Eve as he saw her now, and his
+vision was all the clearer for the long oblivion.  With a
+poignant sense of compassion and remorse, the knowledge of her
+youth came to him--the youth that some women preserve in the
+midst of the world, when circumstances have permitted them to
+see much but to experience little.
+
+"Thankfulness?" he said again, incredulously.
+
+A slight smile touched her lips.  "Yes," she answered, softly.
+"Thankfulness that my trust had been rightly placed."
+
+She spoke simply and confidently, but the words struck Loder
+more sharply than any accusation.  With a heavy sense of
+bitterness and renunciation he moved slowly forward.
+
+"Eve," he said, very gently, "you don't know what you say."
+
+She had lowered her eyes as he came towards her; now again she
+lifted them in a swift, upward glance.  For the first time
+since he had entered the room a slight look of personal doubt
+and uneasiness showed in her face.  "Why?" she said.  "I--I
+don't understand."
+
+For a moment he answered nothing.  He had found his first
+explanation overwhelming; now suddenly it seemed to him that
+his present difficulty was more impossible to surmount.  "I
+came here to-night to tell you something," he began, at last,
+"but so far I have only said half--"
+
+"Half?"
+
+"Yes, half." He repeated the word quickly, avoiding the
+question in her eyes.  Then, conscious of the need for
+explanation, he plunged into rapid speech.
+
+"A fraud like mine," he said, "has only one safeguard, one
+justification--a boundless audacity.  Once shake that audacity
+and the whole motive power crumbles.  It was to make the
+audacity impossible--to tell you the truth and make it
+impossible--that I came to-night.  The fact that you already
+knew made the telling easier--but it altered nothing."
+
+Eve raised her head, but he went resolutely on.
+
+"To-night," he said, "I have seen into my own life, into my
+own mind, and my ideas have been very roughly shaken into new
+places.
+
+"We never make so colossal a mistake as when we imagine that
+we know ourselves.  Months ago, when your husband first
+proposed this scheme to me, I was, according to my own
+conception, a solitary being vastly ill-used by Fate, who,
+with a fine stoicism, was leading a clean life.  That was what
+I believed; but there, at the very outset, I deceived myself.
+I was simply a man who shut himself up because he cherished a
+grudge against life, and who lived honestly because he had a
+constitutional distaste for vice.  My first feeling when I saw
+your husband was one of self-righteous contempt, and that has
+been my attitude all along.  I have often marvelled at the flood
+of intolerance that has rushed over me at sight of him--the
+violent desire that has possessed me to look away from his
+weakness and banish the knowledge of it; but now I understand.
+
+"I know now what the feeling meant.  The knowledge came to me
+to-night.  It meant that I turned away from his weakness
+because deep within myself something stirred in recognition of
+it.  Humanity is really much simpler than we like to think,
+and human impulses have an extraordinary fundamental
+connection.  Weakness is egotism--but so is strength.
+Chilcote has followed his vice; I have followed my ambition.
+It will take a higher judgment than yours or mine to say which
+of us has been the more selfish man."  He paused and looked at
+her.
+
+She was watching him intently.  Some of the meaning in his
+face had found a pained, alarmed reflection in her own.  But
+the awe and wonder of the morning's discovery still colored
+her mind too vividly to allow of other considerations
+possessing their proper value.  The thrill of exultation with
+which the misgivings born of Chilcote's vice had dropped away
+from her mental image of Loder was still too absorbing to be
+easily dominated.  She loved, and as if by a miracle her love
+had been justified!  For the moment the justification was
+all-sufficing.  Something of confidence--something of the
+innocence that comes not from ignorance of evil but from a
+mind singularly uncontaminated--blinded her to the danger of
+her position.
+
+Loder, waiting apprehensively for some aid, some expression of
+opinion, became gradually conscious of this lack of realization.
+Moved by a fresh impulse, he crossed the small space that
+divided them and caught her hands.
+
+"Eve," he said, gently, "I have been trying to analyze myself
+and give you the results; but I sha'n't try any more; I shall
+be quite plain with you.
+
+"From the first moment I took your husband's place I was
+ambitious.  You unconsciously aroused the feeling when you
+brought me Fraide's message on the first night.  You aroused
+it by your words--but more strongly, though more obscurely, by
+your underlying antagonism.  On that night, though I did not
+know it, I took up my position--I made my determination.  Do
+you know what that determination was?"
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"It was the desire to stamp out Chilcote's footmarks with my
+own--to prove that personality is the great force capable of
+everything.  I forgot to reckon that when we draw largely upon
+Fate she generally extorts a crushing interest.
+
+"First came the wish for your respect; then the desire to
+stand well with such men as Fraide--to feel the stir of
+emulation and competition--to prove myself strong in the one
+career I knew myself really fitted for.  For a time the second
+ambition overshadowed the first, but the first was bound to
+reassert itself; and in a moment of egotism I conceived the
+notion of winning your enthusiasm as well as your respect--"
+
+Eve's face, alert and questioning, suddenly paled as a  doubt
+crossed her mind.
+
+"Then it was only--only to stand well with me?"
+
+"I believed it was only the desire to stand well with you; I
+believed it until the night of my speech--if you can credit
+anything so absurd--then on that night, as I came up the
+stairs to the gallery and saw you standing there, the
+blindness fell away and I knew that I loved you."  As he said
+the last words he released her hands and turned aside, missing
+the quick wave of joy and color that crossed her face.
+
+"I knew it, but it made no difference; I was only moved to a
+higher self-glorification.  I touched supremacy that night.
+But as we drove home I experienced the strangest coincidence
+of my life.  You remember the block in the traffic at
+Piccadilly?"
+
+Again Eve bent her head.
+
+"Well, when I looked out of the carriage window to discover
+its cause the first man I saw was--Chilcote."
+
+Eve started slightly.  This swift, unexpected linking of
+Chilcote's name with the most exalted moment of her life
+stirred her unpleasantly.  Some glimmering of Loder's
+intention in so linking it, broke through the web of disturbed
+and conflicting thoughts.
+
+"You saw him on that night?"
+
+"Yes; and the sight chilled me.  It was a big drop from
+supremacy to the remembrance of--everything."
+
+Involuntarily she put out her hand.
+
+But Loder shook his head.  "No," he said, "don't pity me!  The
+sight of him came just in time.  I had a reaction in that
+moment, and, such as it was, I acted on it.  I went to him
+next morning and told him that the thing must end.  But then
+--even then--I shirked being honest with myself.  I had meant
+to tell him that it must end because I had grown to love you,
+but my pride rose up and tied my tongue.  I could not humiliate
+myself.  I put the case before him in another light.  It was a
+tussle of wills--and I won; but the victory was not what it
+should have been.  That was proved to-day when he returned to
+tell me of the loss of this telegram.  It wasn't the fear that
+Lady Astrupp had found it; it wasn't to save the position that
+I jumped at the chance of coming back; it was to feel the joy
+of living, the joy of seeing you--if only for a day!"  For one
+second he turned towards her, then as abruptly he turned away
+again.
+
+"I was still thinking of myself," he said.  "I was still
+utterly self-centred when I came to this room today and
+allowed you to talk to me--when I asked you to see me
+to-night as we parted at the club.  I sha'n't tell you the
+thoughts that unconsciously were in my mind when I asked that
+favor.  You must understand without explanation.
+
+"I went to the theatre with Lady Astrupp ostensibly to find
+out how the land lay in her direction--really to heighten my
+self-esteem.  But there Fate--or the power we like to call by
+that name--was lying in wait for me, ready to claim the first
+interest in the portion of life I had dared to borrow."  He
+said this slowly, as if measuring each word.  He did not
+glance towards Eve as he had done in his previous pause.  His
+whole manner seemed oppressed by the gravity of what he had
+still to say.
+
+"I doubt if a man has ever seen more in half an hour than I
+have to-night," he said.  "I'm speaking of mental seeing, of
+course.  In this play, 'Other Men's Shoes,' two men change
+identities--as Chilcote and I have done--but in doing so they
+overlook one fact--The fact that one of them has a wife!  That's
+not my way of putting it; it's the way it was put to me by one
+of Lady Astrupp's party."
+
+Again Eve looked up.  The doubt and question in her eyes had
+grown unmistakably.  As he ceased to speak her lips parted
+quickly.
+
+"John," she said, with sudden conviction, "you're trying to
+say something--something that's terribly hard."
+
+Without raising his head, Loder answered her.  "Yes," he
+answered, "the hardest thing a man ever said--"
+
+His tone was short, almost brusque, but to ears sharpened by
+instinct it was eloquent.  Without a word Eve took a step
+forward, and, standing quite close to him, laid both hands on
+his shoulders.
+
+For a space they stood silent, she with her face lifted, he
+with averted eyes.  Then very gently he raised his hands and
+tried to unclasp her fingers.  There was scarcely any color
+visible in his face, and by a curious effect of emotion it
+seemed that lines, never before noticeable, had formed about
+his mouth.
+
+"What is it?" Eve asked, apprehensively.  "What is it?"
+
+By a swift, involuntary movement she had tightened the
+pressure of her fingers; and, without using force, it was
+impossible for Loder to unloose them.  With his hands pressed
+irresolutely over hers, he looked down into her face.
+
+"As I sat in the theatre to-night, Eve," he said, slowly, "all
+the pictures I had formed of life shifted.  Without desiring
+it, without knowing it, my whole point of view was changed.  I
+suddenly saw things by the world's search-light instead of by
+my own miserable candle.  I suddenly saw things for you
+--instead of for myself."
+
+Eve's eyes widened and darkened, but she said nothing.
+
+"I suddenly saw the unpardonable wrong that I have done you
+--the imperative duty of cutting it short."  He spoke very
+slowly, in a dull, mechanical voice.
+
+Eve--her eyes still wide, her face pained and alarmed
+--withdrew her hands from his shoulders.  "You mean," she
+said, with difficulty, "that it is going to end?  That you are
+going away?  That you are giving everything up?  Oh, but you
+can't!  You can't!" she exclaimed, with sudden excitement, her
+fears suddenly overmastering her incredulity.  "You can't!
+You mustn't!  The only proof that could have interfered--"
+
+"I wasn't thinking of the proof."
+
+"Then of what?  Of what?"
+
+Loder was silent for a moment.  "Of our love," he said,
+steadily.
+
+She colored deeply.  "But why?" she stammered; "why?  We
+have done no wrong.  We need do no wrong.  We would be
+friends--nothing more; and I--oh, I so need a friend!"
+
+For almost the first time in Loder's knowledge of her, her
+voice broke, her control deserted her.  She stood before him
+in all the pathos of her lonely girlhood--her empty life.
+
+The revelation touched him with sudden poignancy; the real
+strength that lay beneath his faults, the chivalry buried
+under years of callousness, stirred at the birth of a new
+emotion.  The resolution preserved at such a cost, the
+sacrifice that had seemed wellnigh impossible, all at once
+took on a different shape.  What before had been a barren duty
+became suddenly a sacred right.  Holding out his arms, he drew
+her to him as if she had been a child.
+
+"Eve," he said, gently, "I have learned to-night how fully a
+woman's life is at the mercy of the world--and how scanty that
+mercy is.  If circumstances had been different, I believe--I
+am convinced--I would have made you a good husband--would have
+used my right to protect you as well as a man could use it.
+And now that things are different, I want--I should like--"
+He hesitated a very little.  "Now that I have no right to
+protect you--except the right my love gives--I want to guard
+you as closely from all that is sordid as any husband could
+guard his wife.
+
+"In life there are really only two broad issues--right and
+wrong.  Whatever we may say, whatever we may profess to
+believe, we know that our action is always a choice between
+right and wrong.  A month ago--a week ago--I would have
+despised a man who could talk like this--and have thought
+myself strong for despising him.  Now I know that strength is
+something more than the trampling of others into the dust that
+we ourselves may have a clear road; that it is something much
+harder and much less triumphant than that--that it is standing
+aside to let somebody else pass on.  Eve," he exclaimed,
+suddenly, "I'm trying to do this for you.  Don't you see?
+Don't you understand?  The easy course, the happy course,
+would be to let things drift.  Every instinct is calling to
+me to take that course--to go on as I have gone, trading on
+Chilcote's weakness and your generosity.  But I won't do it!
+I can't do it!"  With a swift impulse he loosed his arms and
+held her away from him.  "Eve, it's the first time I have put
+another human being before myself!"
+
+Eve kept her head bent.  Painful, inaudible sobs were shaking
+her from head to foot.
+
+"It's something in you--something unconscious--something high
+and fine, that holds me back--that literally bars the way.
+Eve, can't you see that I'm fighting--fighting hard?"
+
+After he had spoken there was silence--a long, painful
+silence--during which Eve waged the battle that so many of her
+sex have waged before; the battle in which words are useless
+and tears of no account.  She looked very slight, very young,
+very forlorn, as she stood there.  Then, in the oppressive
+sense of waiting that filled the whole room, she looked up at
+him.
+
+Her face was stained with tears, her thick, black lashes were
+still wet with them; but her expression, as her eyes met
+Loder's, was a strange example of the courage, the firmness,
+the power of sacrifice that may be hidden in a fragile vessel.
+
+She said nothing, for in such a moment words do not come
+easily, but with the simplest, most submissive, most eloquent
+gesture in the world she set his perplexity to rest.
+
+Taking his hand between hers, she lifted it and for a long,
+silent space held it against her lips.
+
+
+
+
+XXXIII
+
+
+For a while there was silence; then Loder, bitterly aware that
+he had conquered, poignantly conscious of the appeal that Eve's
+attitude made, found further endurance impossible.  Gently
+freeing his hand, he moved away from her to the fireplace,
+taking up the position that she had first occupied.
+
+"Eve," he said, slowly, "I haven't finished yet.  I haven't
+said everything.  I'm going to tax your courage further."
+
+With a touch of pained alarm, Eve lifted her head. "Further?"
+she said.
+
+Loder shrank from the expression on her face.  "Yes," he said,
+with difficulty.  "There's still another point to be faced.
+The matter doesn't end with my going back.  To have the
+situation fully saved, Chilcote must return--Chilcote must be
+brought to realize his responsibilities."
+
+Eve's lips parted in dumb dismay.
+
+"It must be done," he went on hurriedly, "and we have got to
+do it--you and I."  He turned and looked at her.
+
+"I?  I could do nothing.  What could I do?"  Her voice failed.
+
+"Everything," he said, "you could do everything.  He is
+morally weak, but he has one sensitive point--the fear of a
+public exposure.  Once make it plain to him that you know his
+secret, and you can compel him to whatever course of action
+you select.  It was to ask you to do this--to beg you to do
+this--that I came to you to-night.  I know that it's demanding
+more than a woman's resolution--more than a woman's strength.
+But you are like no woman in the world!
+
+"Eve!" he cried, with sudden vehemence, "can't you see that
+it's imperative--the one thing to save us both?"
+
+He stopped abruptly as he had begun, and again a painful
+silence filled the room.  Then, as before, Eve moved
+instinctively towards him, but this time her steps were slow
+and uncertain.  Nearing his side, she put out her hand as if
+for comfort and support; and, feeling his fingers tighten
+round it, stood for a moment resting in the contact.
+
+"I understand," she said at last, very slowly.  "I understand.
+When will you take me to him?"
+
+For a moment Loder said nothing, not daring to trust his
+voice; then he answered, low and abruptly.  "Now!" he said.
+"Now, at once!  Now, this moment, if I may.  And--and remember
+that I know what it costs you."  As if imbued with fear that
+his courage might fail him, he suddenly released her hand,
+and, crossing the room to where a long, dark cloak lay as she
+had thrown it on her return home, he picked it up, walked to
+her side, and silently wrapped it about her.  Then, still
+acting automatically, he moved to the door, opened it, and
+stood aside while she passed out into the corridor.
+
+In complete silence they descended the stairs and passed to
+the hall door.  There Crapham, who had returned to his duties
+since Loder's entrance, came quickly forward with an offer of
+service.
+
+But Loder dismissed him curtly; and with something of the
+confusion bred of Chilcote's regime, the man drew back towards
+the staircase.
+
+With a hasty movement Loder stepped forward, and, opening the
+door, admitted a breath of chill air.  Then on the threshold
+he paused.  It was his first sign of hesitation
+--the one instant in which nature rebelled against the
+conscience so tardily awakened.  He stood motionless for a
+moment, and it is doubtful whether even Eve fully fathomed the
+bitterness of his renunciation--the blackness of the night
+that stretched before his eyes.
+
+Behind him was everything; before him, nothing.  The
+everything symbolized by the luxurious house, the eagerly
+attentive servants, the pleasant atmosphere of responsibility;
+the nothing represented by the broad public thoroughfare, the
+passing figures, each unconscious of and uninterested in his
+existence.  As an interloper he had entered this house; as an
+interloper--a masquerader--he had played his part, lived his
+hour, proved himself; as an interloper he was now passing back
+into the dim world of unrealized hopes and unachieved
+ambitions.
+
+He stood rigidly quiet, his strong figure silhouetted against
+the lighted hall, his face cold and set; then, with a touch of
+fatality, Chance cut short his struggle.
+
+An empty hansom wheeled round the corner of the square; the
+cabman, seeing him, raised his whip in query, and involuntarily
+he nodded an acquiescence.  A moment later he had helped Eve
+into the cab.
+
+"Middle Temple Lane!" he directed, pausing on the step.
+
+"Middle Temple Lane is opposite to Clifford's Inn," he
+explained as he took his place beside her.  "When we get out
+there we have only to cross Fleet Street."
+
+Eve bent her head in token that she understood, and the cab
+moved out into the roadway.
+
+Within a few minutes the neighborhood of Grosvenor Square was
+exchanged for the noisier and more crowded one of Piccadilly,
+but either the cabman was overcautious or the horse was below
+the average, for they made but slow progress through the more
+crowded streets.  To the two sitting in silence the pace was
+wellnigh unbearable.  With every added movement the tension
+grew.  The methodical care with which they moved seemed like
+the tightening of a string already strained to breaking-point,
+yet neither spoke--because neither had the courage necessary
+for words.
+
+Once or twice as they traversed the Strand, Loder made a
+movement as if to break the silence, but nothing followed it.
+He continued to lean forward with a certain dogged stiffness,
+his clasped hands resting on the doors of the cab, his eyes
+staring straight ahead.  Not once, as they threaded their way,
+did he dare to glance at Eve, though every movement, every
+stir of her garments, was forced upon his consciousness by his
+acutely awakened senses.
+
+When at last they drew up before the dark archway of Middle
+Temple Lane, he descended hastily.  And as he mechanically
+turned to protect Eve's dress from the wheel, he looked at her
+fully for the first time since their enterprise had been
+undertaken.  As he looked he felt his heart sink.  He had
+expected to see the marks of suffering on her face, but the
+expression he saw suggested something more than mere mental
+pain.
+
+All the rich color that usually deepened and softened the
+charm of her beauty had been erased as if by a long illness;
+and against the new pallor of her skin her blue eyes, her
+black hair and eyebrows, seemed startlingly dark.  A chill
+colder than remorse, a chill that bordered upon actual fear,
+touched Loder in that moment.  With the first impulsive
+gesture he had allowed himself, he touched her arm.
+
+"Eve--" he began, unsteadily; then the word died off his lips.
+
+Without a sound, almost without a movement, she returned his
+glance, and something in her eyes checked what he might have
+said.  In that one expressive look he understood all she had
+desired, all she had renounced--the full extent of the ordeal
+she had consented to, and the motive that had compelled her
+consent.  He drew back with the heavy sense that repentance
+and pity were equally futile--equally out of place.
+
+Still in silence she stepped to the pavement and stood aside
+while Loder dismissed the cab.  To both there was something
+symbolic, something prophetic, in the dismissal.  Without
+intention and almost unconsciously they drew closer together
+as the horse turned, its hoofs clattering on the roadway, its
+harness jingling; and, still without realization, they looked
+after the vehicle as it moved away down the long, shadowed
+thoroughfare towards the lights and the crowds that they had
+left.  At last involuntarily they turned towards each other.
+
+"Come!" Loder said, abruptly.  "It's only across the road."
+
+Fleet Street is generally very quiet, once midnight is passed;
+and Eve had no need of guidance or protection as they crossed
+the pavement, shining like ice in the lamplight.  They crossed
+it slowly, walking apart; for the dread of physical contact
+that had possessed them in the cab seemed to have fallen on
+them again.
+
+Inquisitiveness has little place in the region of the city,
+and they gained the opposite footpath unnoticed by the casual
+passer-by.  Then, still holding apart, they reached and
+entered Clifford's Inn.
+
+Inside the entrance they paused, and Eve shivered involuntarily.
+"How gray it is!" she said, faintly.  "And how cold!  Like a
+graveyard."
+
+Loder turned to her.  Far one moment control seemed shaken;
+his blood surged, his vision clouded; the sense that life and
+love were still within his reach filled him overwhelmingly.
+He turned towards Eve; he half extended his hands.  Then,
+stirred by what impulse, moved by what instinct, it was
+impossible to say, he let them drop to his sides again.
+
+"Come!" he said.  "Come!  This is the way.  Keep close to me.
+Put your hand on my arm."
+
+He spoke quietly, but his eyes were resolutely averted from
+her face as they crossed the dim, silent court.
+
+Entering the gloomy door-way that led to his own rooms, he
+felt her fingers tremble on his arm, then tighten in their
+pressure as the bare passage and cheerless stairs met her
+view; but he set his lips.
+
+"Come!" he repeated, in the same strained voice.  "Come!  It
+isn't far--three or four flights."
+
+With a white face and a curious expression in her eyes, Eve
+moved forward.  She had released Loder's arm as they crossed
+the hall; and now, reaching the stairs, she put out her hand
+gropingly and caught the banister.  She had a pained, numb
+sense of submission--of suffering that had sunk to apathy.
+Moving forward without resistance, she began to mount the
+stairs.
+
+The ascent was made in silence.  Loder went first, his
+shoulders braced, his head held erect; Eve, mechanically
+watchful of all his movements, followed a step or two behind.
+With weary monotony one flight of stairs succeeded another;
+each, to her unaccustomed eyes, seeming more colorless, more
+solitary, more desolate than the preceding one.
+
+Then at last, with a sinking sense of apprehension, she
+realized that their goal was reached.
+
+The knowledge broke sharply through her dulled senses; and,
+confronted by the closeness of her ordeal, she paused, her
+head lifted, her hand still nervously grasping the banister.
+Her lips parted as if in sudden demand for aid; but in the
+nervous expectation, the pained apprehension, of the moment no
+sound escaped them.  Loder, resolutely crossing the landing,
+knew nothing of the silent appeal.
+
+For a second she stood hesitating; then her own weakness, her
+own shrinking dismay, were submerged in the interest of his
+movements.  Slowly mounting the remaining steps, she followed
+him as if fascinated towards the door that showed dingily
+conspicuous in the light of an unshaded gas-jet.
+
+Almost at the moment that she reached his side he extended his
+hand towards the door.  The action was decisive and hurried,
+as though he feared to trust himself.
+
+For a space he fumbled with the lock.  And Eve, standing close
+behind him, heard the handle creak and turn under his
+pressure.  Then he shook the door.
+
+At last, slowly, almost reluctantly, he turned round.  "I'm
+afraid things aren't quite quite right," he said, in a low
+voice.  "The door is locked and I can see no light."
+
+She raised her eyes quickly.  "But you have a key?" she
+whispered.  "Haven't you got a key?"  It was obvious that, to
+both, the unexpected check to their designs was fraught with
+danger.
+
+"Yes, but--"  He looked towards the door.  "Yes--I have a key.
+Yes, you're right!" he added, quickly.  "I'll use it.  Wait,
+while I go inside."
+
+Filled with a new nervousness, oppressed by the loneliness,
+the silence about her, Eve drew back obediently.  The sense of
+mystery conveyed by the closed door weighed upon her.  Her
+susceptibilities were tensely alert as she watched Loder
+search for his key and insert it in the lock.  With mingled
+dread and curiosity she saw the door yield, and gape open like
+a black gash in the dingy wall; and with a sudden sense of
+desertion she saw him pass through the aperture and heard him
+strike a match.
+
+The wait that followed seemed extraordinarily long.  Listening
+intently, she heard him move softly from one room to the
+other.  And at last, to her acutely nervous susceptibilities,
+it seemed that he paused in absolute silence.  In the
+intensity of listening, she heard her own faint, irregular
+breathing, and the sound filled her with panic.  The quiet,
+the solitude, the vague, instinctive apprehension, became
+suddenly unendurable.  Then all at once the tension was
+relieved..  Loder reappeared.
+
+He paused for a second in the shadowy door-way; then he turned
+unsteadily, drew the door to, and locked; it.
+
+Eve stepped forward.  Her glimpse of him had been momentary
+--and she had not heard his voice--yet the consciousness of his
+bearing filled her with instinctive alarm.  Abruptly, and
+without reason, their hands turned cold, her heart began to
+beat violently. "John--" she said below her breath.
+
+For answer, he moved towards her.  His face was bereft of
+color; there was a look of consternation in his eyes.  "Come!"
+he said.  "Come at once!  I must take you home."  He spoke in
+a shaken, uneven voice.
+
+Eve, looking up at him, caught his hand.  "Why?  Why?" she
+questioned.  Her tone was low and scared.
+
+Without replying, he drew her imperatively towards the stairs.
+"Go very softly," he commanded.  "No one must see you here."
+
+In the first moment she obeyed him instinctively; then,
+reaching the head of the stairs, she stopped.  With one hand
+still clasping his, the other clinging nervously to the
+banister, she refused to descend.  "John," she whispered, "I'm
+not a child.  What is it?  What has happened?  I must know."
+
+For a moment Loder looked at her uncertainly; then, reading
+the expression in her eyes, he yielded to her demand.
+
+"He's dead," he said, in a very low voice.  "Chilcote is
+dead,"
+
+
+
+
+XXXIV
+
+
+To fully appreciate a great announcement we must have time at
+our disposal.  At the moment of Loder's disclosure time was
+denied to Eve; for scarcely had the words left his lips before
+the thought that dominated him asserted its prior claim.
+Blind to the incredulity in her eyes, he drew her swiftly
+forward, and--half impelling, half supporting her--forced her
+to descend the stairs.
+
+Never in after-life could he obliterate the remembrance of
+that descent.  Fear, such as he could never experience in his
+own concerns, possessed him.  One desire overrode all others
+--the desire that Eve's reputation, which he himself had so
+nearly imperilled, should remain unimperilled.  In the shadow
+of that urgent duty, the despair of the past hours, the
+appalling fact so lately realized, the future with its
+possible trials, became dark to his imagination.  In his new
+victory over self, the question of her protection
+predominated.
+
+Moving under this compulsion, he guided her hastily and
+silently down the deserted stairs, drawing a breath of deep
+relief as, one after another, the landings were successively
+passed; and still actuated by the suppressed need of haste, he
+passed through the door-way that they had entered under such
+different conditions only a few minutes before.
+
+To leave the quiet court, to gain the Strand, to hail a
+belated hansom was the work of a moment.  By an odd contrivance
+of circumstance, the luck that had attended every phase of
+his dual life was again exerted in his behalf.  No one had
+noticed their entry into Clifford's Inn; no one was moved to
+curiosity by their exit.  With an involuntary thrill of feeling
+he gave expression to his relief.
+
+"Thank God, it's over!" he said, as a cab drew up.  "You don't
+know what the strain has been."
+
+Moving as if in a dream, Eve stepped into the cab.  As yet the
+terrible denouement to their enterprise had made no clear
+impression upon her mind.  For the moment all that she was
+conscious of, all that she instinctively acknowledged, was the
+fact that Loder was still beside her.
+
+In quiet obedience she took her place, drawing aside her
+skirts to make room for him; and in the same subdued manner,
+he stepped into the vehicle.  Then, with the strange sensation
+of reliving their earlier drive, they were aware of the
+tightened rein and of the horse's first forward movement.
+
+For several seconds neither spoke.  Eve, shutting out all
+other thoughts, sat close to Loder, clinging tenaciously to
+the momentary comforting sense of protection; Loder, striving
+to marshal his ideas, hesitated before the ordeal of speech.
+At last, realizing his responsibility, he turned to her
+slowly.
+
+"Eve," he said, in a low voice and with some hesitation, "I
+want you to know that in all this--from the moment I saw him
+--from the moment I understood--I have had you in my thoughts
+--you and no one else."
+
+She raised her eyes to his face.
+
+"Do you realize--?" he began afresh.  "Do you know what this
+--this thing means?"
+
+Still she remained silent.
+
+"It means that after to-night there will be no such person in
+London as John Loder.  To-morrow the man who was known by that
+name will be found in his rooms; his body will be removed, and
+at the post-modern examination it will be stated that he died
+of an overdose of morphia.  His charwoman will identify him as
+a solitary man who lived respectably for years and then
+suddenly went down-hill with remarkable speed.  It will be
+quite a common case.  Nothing of interest will be found in his
+rooms; no relation will claim his body; after the usual time
+he will be given the usual burial of his class.  These details
+are horrible; but there are times when we must look at the
+horrible side of life--because life is incomplete without it.
+
+"These things I speak of are the things that will meet the
+casual eye; but in our sight they will have a very different
+meaning.
+
+"Eve," he said, more vehemently, "a whole chapter in my life
+has been closed to-night, and my first instinct is to shut the
+book and throw it away.  But I'm thinking of you.  Remember,
+I'm thinking of you!  Whatever the trial, whatever the
+difficulty, no harm shall come to you.  You have my word for
+that!
+
+"I'll return with you now to Grosvenor Square; I'll remain
+there till a reasonable excuse can be given for Chilcote's
+going abroad; I will avoid Fraide, I will cut politics
+--whatever the cost; then, at the first reasonable moment, I
+will do what I would do now, to-night if it were possible.
+I'll go away, start afresh; do in another country what I have
+done in this."
+
+There was a long silence; then Eve turned to him.  The apathy
+of a moment before had left her face.  "In another country?"
+she repeated.  "In another country?"
+
+"Yes; a fresh career in a fresh country.  Something clean to
+offer you.  I'm not too old to do what other men have done."
+
+He paused, and for a moment Eve looked ahead at the gleaming
+chain of lamps; then, still very slowly, she brought her
+glance back again.  "No," she said very slowly.  "You are
+not too old.  But there are times when age--and things like
+age--are not the real consideration.  It seems to me that your
+own inclination, your own individual sense of right and wrong,
+has nothing to do with the present moment.  The question is
+whether you are justified in going away"--she paused, her eyes
+fixed steadily upon his--"whether you are free to go away, and
+make a new life--whether it is ever justifiable to follow a
+phantom light when--when there's a lantern waiting to be
+carried."  Her breath caught; she drew away from him,
+frightened and elated by her own words.
+
+Loder turned to her sharply.  "Eve!" he exclaimed; then his
+tone changed.  "You don't know what you're saying," he added,
+quickly; "you don't understand what you're saying."
+
+Eve leaned forward again.  "Yes," she said, slowly, "I do
+understand."  Her voice was controlled, her manner convinced.
+She was no longer the girl conquered by strength greater than
+her own: she was the woman strenuously demanding her right to
+individual happiness.
+
+"I understand it all," she repeated.  "I understand every
+point.  It was not Chance that made you change your identity,
+that made you care for me, that brought about--his death.  I
+don't believe it was Chance; I believe it was something much
+higher.  You are not meant to go away!"
+
+As Loder watched her the remembrance of his first days as
+Chilcote rose again; the remembrance of how he had been dimly
+filled with the belief that below her self-possession lay a
+strength--a depth--uncommon in woman.  As he studied her now,
+the instinctive belief flamed into conviction.  "Eve!" he said
+involuntarily.
+
+With a quick gesture she raised her head.  "No!" she
+exclaimed.  "No; don't say anything!  You are going to see
+things as I see them--you must do so--you have no choice.  No
+real man ever casts away the substance for the shadow!"  Her
+eyes shone--the color, the glow, the vitality, rushed back
+into her face.
+
+"John," she said, softly, "I love you--and I need you--but
+there is something with a greater claim--a greater need than
+mine.  Don't you know what it is?"
+
+He said nothing; he made no gesture.
+
+"It is the party--the country.  You may put love aside, but
+duty is different.  You have pledged yourself.  You are not
+meant to draw back."
+
+Loder's lips parted.
+
+"Don't!" she said again.  "Don't say anything!  I know all
+that is in your mind.  But, when we sift things right through,
+it isn't my love--or our happinees--that's really in the
+balance.  It is your future!"
+
+Her voice thrilled.  "You are going to be a great man, and a
+great man is the property of his country.  He has no right to
+individual action."
+
+Again Loder made an effort to speak, but again she checked
+him.
+
+"Wait!" she exclaimed.  "Wait!  You believe you have acted
+wrongly, and you are desperately afraid of acting wrongly
+again.  But is it really truer, more loyal for us to work out
+a long probation in grooves that are already overfilled than
+to marry quietly abroad and fill the places that have need of
+us?  That is the question I want you to answer.  Is it really
+truer and nobler?  Oh, I see the doubt that is in your mind!
+You think it finer to go away and make a new life than to live
+the life that is waiting you--because one is independent and
+the other means the use of another man's name and another
+man's money--that is the thought in your mind.  But what is it
+that prompts that thought?"  Again her voice caught, but her
+eyes did not falter.  "I will tell you.  It is not self-sacrifice
+--but pride!"  She said the word fearlessly.
+
+A flush crossed Loder's face.  "A man requires pride," he said
+in a low voice.
+
+"Yes, at the right time.  But is this the right time?  Is it
+ever right to throw away the substance for the shadow?  You
+say that I don't understand--don't realize.  I realize more
+to-night than I have realized in all my life.  I know that you
+have an opportunity that can never come again--and that it's
+terribly possible to let it slip--"
+
+She paused.  Loder, his hands resting on the closed doors of
+the cab, sat very silent, with averted eves and bent head.
+
+"Only to-night," she went on, "you told me that everything was
+crying to you to take the easy, pleasant way.  Then it was
+strong to turn aside; but now it is not strong.  It is far
+nobler to fill an empty niche than to carve one for yourself.
+John--"  She suddenly leaned forward, laying her hands over
+his.  "Mr. Fraide told me to-night that in his new ministry
+my--my husband was to be Under Secretary for Foreign Affairs!"
+
+The words fell softly.  So softly that to ears less
+comprehending than Loder's their significance might have been
+lost--as his rigid attitude and unresponsive manner might have
+conveyed lack of understanding to any eyes less observant than
+Eve's.
+
+For a long space there was no word spoken.  At last, with a
+very gentle pressure, her fingers tightened over his hands.
+
+"John--" she began, gently.  But the word died away.  She drew
+back into her seat, as the cab stopped before Chilcote's
+house.
+
+Simultaneously as they descended, the hall door was opened and
+a flood of warm light poured out reassuringly into the
+darkness.
+
+"I thought it was your cab, sir," Crapham explained
+deferentially as they passed into the hall.  "Mr. Fraide has
+been waiting to see you this half-hour.  I showed him into the
+study."  He closed the door; softly and retired.
+
+Then, in the warm light, amid the gravely dignified
+surroundings that had marked his first entry into this
+hazardous second existence, Eve turned to Loder for the
+verdict upon which the future hung.
+
+As she turned, his face was still hidden from her, and his
+attitude betrayed nothing.
+
+"John," she said, slowly, "you know why he is here.' You know
+that he has come to personally offer you this place; to
+personally receive your refusal--or consent."
+
+She ceased to speak; there was a moment of suspense; then
+Loder turned.  His face was still pale and grave with the
+gravity of a man who has but recently been close to death, but
+beneath the gravity was another look--the old expression of
+strength and self-reliance, tempered, raised, and dignified by
+a new humility.
+
+Moving forward, he held out his hands.
+
+"My consent or refusal," he said, very quietly, "lies with
+--my wife."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Masquerader, by Katherine Cecil Thurston
+
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