, and
it is almost that, now. Dudley, I am sorry that this is good-by for so
long. Don't let us break up the party." And, rising, he nodded to the
other guests and took his departure without a backward glance.

He had reckoned accurately, for experience had taught him to know his
man. Lorimer sat still for a moment, then hesitated, and rose. He bade
an over-cordial good-night to Dudley and Lloyd Avalons, exchanged with
the others a jesting word or two of which the humor was obviously
forced; then he sullenly followed Thayer out of the room and out of the
club.

Once safely in the street, Thayer freed his mind, forcibly and tersely
according to his wont.

"It's bad enough to fall into temptation, Lorimer; but the fellow who
deliberately canters into it comes mighty near not being worth the
saving. Some day, you'll wake up to find the truth of that fact; and
then Heaven help you, for there may not be anyone else willing to take
the trouble!"

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Slowly and by almost imperceptible stages, spring had crept into summer
and summer had crawled sluggishly into autumn. Rose color had turned to
green, green to gold, and then all colors had faded to the uniform gray
of November. To Beatrix it seemed that nature's change typified that of
her life; to Thayer and Arlt the rose color and the gold were still
glowing. For the time being, the problems of their professional lives
were absorbing them both, to the exclusion of more human interests. Such
epochs are bound to come to every man. However broad and generous-minded
he may be, there are hours when it seems to him that the rising of the
sun and the going down of the same are functions of nature ordained
merely for the sake of giving chronological record of his own
professional advancement. November brought them both to this mood and,
while it lasted, each found the other his only satisfactory companion.

To Thayer the summer had been a matter of personal mathematics, the
solving of simultaneous personal equations. He had refused the
Lorimers' urgent invitation to join them at Monomoy. He had felt unequal
to prolong the double strain he had endured, those last weeks in town
before society broke up for the summer. It was almost unbearable to him
to be within daily reach of Beatrix, to be forced to face her with the
unvarying conventional smile of mere social acquaintance. It was
infinitely worse to be forced to look on and watch the gradual wrecking
of he