long oblivion. Hours of sleeplessness were his
dread. However soon he awoke after daybreak, he rose at once and drove
his mind to some sort of occupation. To escape from himself was all he
lived for in these days. An ascetic of old times, subduing his flesh in
cell or cave, battled no harder than this idealist of London City
tortured by his solitude.

On the pavement of Piccadilly he saw some yards before him, a man
seemingly of the common lounging sort, tall-hatted and frock-coated,
who was engaged in the cautious pursuit of a female figure, just in
advance. A light and springy and half-stalking step; head jutting a
little forward; the cane mechanically swung--a typical woman-hunter, in
some doubt as to his quarry. On an impulse of instinct or calculation,
the man all at once took a few rapid strides, bringing himself within
sideview of the woman's face. Evidently he spoke a word; he received an
obviously curt reply; he fell back, paced slowly, turned and Piers
became aware of a countenance he knew--that of his brother Daniel.

It was a disagreeable moment. Daniel's lean, sallow visage had no
aptitude for the expression of shame, but his eyes grew very round, and
his teeth showed in a hard grin.

"Why, Piers, my boy! Again we meet in a London street--which is rhyme,
and sounds like Browning, doesn't it? _Comment ca va-t-il_?"

Piers shook hands very coldly, without pretence of a smile.

"I am walking on," he said. "Yours is the other way, I think."

"What! You wish to cut me? Pray, your exquisite reason?"

"Well, then, I think you have behaved meanly and dishonourably to me. I
don't wish to discuss the matter, only to make myself understood."

His ability to use this language, and to command himself as he did so,
was a surprise to Piers. Nothing he disliked more than personal
altercation; he shrank from it at almost any cost. But the sight of
Daniel, the sound of his artificial voice, moved him deeply with
indignation, and for the first time in his life he spoke out. Having
done so, he had a pleasurable sensation; he felt his assured manhood.

Daniel was astonished, disconcerted, but showed no disposition to close
the interview; turning, he walked along by his brother.

"I suppose I know what you refer to. But let me explain. I think my
explanation will interest you."

"No, I'm afraid it will not," replied Piers quietly.

"In any case, lend me your ears. You are offended by my failure to pay
that debt. Wel