r--after I'd seen her, and it seemed to me all very well in the
abstract giving her up to another man and all that, but when it came to
the point, would you be really sure to want me to carry through? I've
seen her now, you know, and I'm glad I've seen her. I'll be glad always
for that, but it needn't go any further."

Winn looked past him; he was tired with the long night's strain, and he
had no white ideal to be a rapture in his heart. He loved Claire not
because she was perfection, but because she was herself. She was
faultless to Lionel, but Winn didn't care whether she was faultless or
not. He didn't expect perfection or even want it, and he wasn't the man
to be satisfied with an ideal; but he wanted, as few men have ever
wanted for any women, that Claire should be happy and safe.

"I've told you once," he said; "you might know I shouldn't change. I've
got one or two little jobs to see to about Bouncing's funeral. That
woman's half a little cat and half an abject fool. Still, you can't help
feeling a bit sorry for her. I dare say I can get things done by
lunch-time; then I'll drive over the Fluella. I'll put up at the Kulm;
but don't bother to write till you've got something settled. I'm not
going to mess about saying good-by to people. You can tell Miss Rivers
when I'm gone."

"Look here," Lionel urged, "you can't do that; you must say good-by to
her properly. She was awfully sick at your not turning up at the ball.
After all, you know, you've seen a lot of her, and she particularly
likes you. You can't jump off into space, as if you were that old chap
in the Bible without any beginning or any end!"

Winn stuck his hands in his pockets and looked immovably obstinate.

"I'm damned if I do," he replied. "Why should I? What's the use of
saying good-by? The proper thing to do when you're going away is to go.
You needn't linger, mewing about like somebody's pet kitten."

Lionel poured out the whiskey before replying, and pushed a glass in
Winn's direction; then he said:

"Don't be a fool, old chap; you'll have to say good-by to her. You don't
want to hurt her feelings."

"What's it to you whether I hurt her feelings or not?" Winn asked
savagely.

There was a moment's sharp tension. It dropped at the tone of Lionel's
quiet voice.

"It's a great deal to me," he said steadily; "but I know it's not half
as much to me as it is to you, old Winn."

"Oh, all right," said Winn after a short pause. "I suppose I'll s