that--to my--my friend."

Jim took him by the shoulder and steadied him.

"She saved your people from a big financial crash, anyway--remember
that."

"Is that any mitigation? I'd rather die in the gutter than live on money
that was obtained by a vulgar fraud. She acted a lie--a damned despicable
lie. That sort of thing is done every day, but the man usually knows what
he is doing, and hasn't any scruples, and the girl sometimes learns to
love him.... So we're living on the benevolence and innocence of a man who
isn't good enough to be the _real_ husband of a Featherstone. I wish to
God my name were Smith or Jones--or anything that is honest...."

He broke away from Jim, humiliated by the knowledge that had come to him.
On the morrow he dropped in at the club, his face set in a way strange to
him.

"I dropped in to say good-bye, Jim."

"Eh!"

"We had it all out last night--a real family gathering. I think I got a
little militant. Anyhow, it's better this way. What sort of chance is
there for a chap like me in Canada, Jim?"

Jim put down his newspaper and stared.

"You don't mean that, kid."

"I do. I leave Liverpool this evening."

Jim stood up and took his hand.

"I reckon you'll do," he said. "But how's the bank? You wouldn't like a
kind o' sleeping partner on a fifty-fifty basis, eh?"

Claude shook his head.

"I know what you mean, Jim. But I've money enough to get started at
something. If ever I get a partner out there, I shall consider myself
lucky if he's half the man you are."

Jim sighed.

"I wish I was coming too.... You're sure about the dough? Come, I'd like
to invest a little in a real promising proposition. Say five
thousand--jest a small interest----"

Claude gripped his hand.

"You're a real brick, Jim, but it can't be done. No, I can't stay to
lunch. I've got one or two calls to make. Good-bye."

"Good-bye."

He was about to leave when he turned again.

"You mustn't mind me saying this, Jim. Meredith is seeing a great deal too
much of Angela. There is doubtless nothing in it, but--well, Angela is my
sister, and I don't like Meredith."

When he had gone Jim sat and pondered over the words. A similar hint had
been dropped by Cholmondeley. So Angela was already considered fair spoil
by men like Meredith! Meredith was out to win the love that he had lost.
It rankled--it hurt. But behind his fury there lurked the sinister shadow
of defeat and humiliation. There were giddy heights