ce--the second time the words were not quite
clear. He handed it across the table to his companion silently. The
five-hundred-franc bill lay between the plate where the veal had been
and the empty coffee cup.

Dearborn, when he had eagerly read the note, glanced up to speak to
Fairfax and saw that he had turned away from him. In his figure, as he
bowed over, leaning his head upon his hands, there were the first marks
of weariness that Dearborn had ever seen. There had been weariness in
the step that limped up the stairs and crossed the room when Fairfax had
entered with the meagre bundle of food. Dearborn leaned over and saw his
friend's fine profile, and there was unmistakably the mark of fatigue on
the face, flushed by fire and lamp-light. Dearborn knew of his companion
very little. The two had housed together, come together, bits of
driftwood on the river of life, drawn by sympathy in the current, and
few questions had been asked. He knew that Rainsford was from New
Orleans, that he had studied in New York. Of Antony's life he knew
nothing, although he had wondered much.

He said now, lightly, as he handed the letter back, "You haven't been
playing perfectly square with me, Tony. I'm afraid you have been wearing
the boots under false pretences, but, nevertheless, I guess you will
have to wear them to-morrow night, old man."

As Fairfax did not move, Dearborn finished more gravely--

"I would be glad to hear anything you are willing to tell me about it."

Fairfax turned slowly and put the letter back in his pocket. Then
leaning across the table, in an undertone, he told Dearborn
everything--everything. He spoke quietly and did not linger, sketching
for him rapidly his life as far as it had gone. Twice Dearborn rose and
fed the stove recklessly with fuel. Once he stood up, took a coverlet
and wrapped it around him, and sat blinking like a resurrected mummy.
And Fairfax talked till Bella flashed like a red bird across the
shadows, lifted her lips to his and was gone. Molly shone from the
shadows and passed like light through the open door. And, last of all,
Mrs. Faversham came and brought a magic wand and she lingered, for
Fairfax stopped here.

He had talked until morning. The dawn was grey across the frosty pane
when he rose to throw himself down on his bed to sleep. The
five-hundred-franc note lay where he had left it on the table between
the empty plate and the empty cup. The fire was dead in the stove and
th