mself that
the girl was not worth troubling about, that it was impossible he
should love her after having received such an injury at her hands.
Perhaps it was true he no longer loved her, but the wrenching out of
his love had left a ghastly gaping wound in his breast. The only thing
that kept him going at all was a passionate desire for revenge. Oh, to
get square!

At home he had an additional cause for pain in the empty room adjoining
his, though Charley's defection was somewhat overshadowed by the
greater misfortune. But to be betrayed on succeeding days by his best
friend and by his girl was enough to shatter any man's faith in
humanity.

Next morning after breakfast he sat at his table with his head between
his hands, when he was aroused by the sound of an apologetic cough in
the hall outside his door. The door was open. A voice spoke his name
deprecatingly.

"Here!" said Evan. "Come in."

George Deaves appeared in the doorway, and Evan was sufficiently
astonished. Deaves was neatly dressed in black as for a funeral,
carrying a highly-polished silk hat over his thumb. He was pale and
moist with agitation, and looked not at all sure of his reception.

"I--I didn't know which door was yours," he stammered. "The woman told
me to come right up."

Evan could hardly be said to be overjoyed to see his visitor, though
his curiosity was somewhat aroused. "Come in," he said. "Sit down.
This is an unexpected visit."

"Yes. Thank you." Deaves looked around him vaguely. "So this is
where you live?"

"Not a very palatial abode, eh?" said Evan, following the other's
thought.

"Not at all! Not at all!" said Deaves hastily. "I mean, very nice.
Very suitable. One understands of course that a young artist has his
way to make."

It was clear from his agonised and distraught eye that he had not come
merely to exchange civilities. "What can I do for you?" asked Evan
bluntly.

Deaves trailed off into explanations that explained nothing. "I
intended to come anyway--to tell you--to express how it was--my
position is very difficult--you can understand I am sure--to tell
you--to tell you how sorry I was to be obliged to let you go."

"Oh, that's all right," said Evan indifferently.

"And then something happened which obliged me to come at once. I was
here yesterday, but you were out."

"Yes, I was out all day," said Evan bitterly. "What has happened?"

Deaves wiped his face. "I have had another lett