big chair, and wondered what these things
might mean. He did not wish to be tended by the housekeeper, and yet
Torpenhow's constant tenderness jarred on him. He did not exactly know
what he wanted. The darkness would not lift, and Maisie's unopened
letters felt worn and old from much handling. He could never read them
for himself as long as life endured; but Maisie might have sent him some
fresh ones to play with. The Nilghai entered with a gift,--a piece of
red modelling-wax. He fancied that Dick might find interest in using his
hands. Dick poked and patted the stuff for a few minutes, and, 'Is it
like anything in the world?' he said drearily. 'Take it away. I may get
the touch of the blind in fifty years. Do you know where Torpenhow has
gone?'

The Nilghai knew nothing. 'We're staying in his rooms till he comes
back. Can we do anything for you?'

'I'd like to be left alone, please. Don't think I'm ungrateful; but I'm
best alone.'

The Nilghai chuckled, and Dick resumed his drowsy brooding and sullen
rebellion against fate. He had long since ceased to think about the work
he had done in the old days, and the desire to do more work had departed
from him. He was exceedingly sorry for himself, and the completeness
of his tender grief soothed him. But his soul and his body cried for
Maisie--Maisie who would understand. His mind pointed out that Maisie,
having her own work to do, would not care. His experience had taught him
that when money was exhausted women went away, and that when a man was
knocked out of the race the others trampled on him. 'Then at the least,'
said Dick, in reply, 'she could use me as I used Binat,--for some sort
of a study. I wouldn't ask more than to be near her again, even though I
knew that another man was making love to her. Ugh! what a dog I am!'

A voice on the staircase began to sing joyfully--

'When we go--go--go away from here, Our creditors will weep and they
will wail, Our absence much regretting when they find that they've been
getting Out of England by next Tuesday's Indian mail.'

Following the trampling of feet, slamming of Torpenhow's door, and the
sound of voices in strenuous debate, some one squeaked, 'And see, you
good fellows, I have found a new water-bottle--firs'-class patent--eh,
how you say? Open himself inside out.'

Dick sprang to his feet. He knew the voice well. 'That's Cassavetti,
come back from the Continent. Now I know why Torp went away. There's a
row somewher