ing
with that hanging over her head.'

'I can pay,' said Charles.

'She'll pay on for ever.'

'What else can I do?'

'Clear out, give her a chance. Let her make her own life so that it
can't touch her--whatever happens to you.'

'But I ...'

'Can you only think of yourself?'

'My work.'

'Look here, Mann. I've paid six hundred to keep this quiet. It hasn't
done it. I suppose they've squabbled over the spoils.'

'Six hundred.'

'Yes. What can you do? These people ask more and more and more.'

'It's ruin.'

'Yes. If you don't clear out.'

Charles began to look elderly and flabby.

'All right,' he said. 'When?'

'To-morrow morning. I'll see that you have money and you'll get as
much work as you like now--thanks to her.'

'You don't know what she's been to me, Verschoyle.'

'No. But I know what any other man would have been to her. You ought
to have told her.'

'To-morrow morning,' said Charles. 'I'll go.'

He turned away and basked in the smiles and congratulations of the
Bracebridge-Butcher set.

Verschoyle returned to Rodd,--

'That's all right,' he said. 'I was afraid that with this success he'd
want to stick it out. These idealists are so infernally
self-righteous.'

Lady Butcher returned with Clara, looking very pale and slender in a
little black silk frock. Sir Henry came up to her at once and took
possession of her. He whispered in her ear,--

'Did you get my flowers?'

'Yes.'

'And my note?'

'Yes.'

'Will you stay?'

'No.'

Her hand went to her heart as she saw Rodd. How came he here in this
oppressive company? She was sorry and hated his being there.

She received her congratulations listlessly and accepted, without the
smallest intention of acting upon her acceptance, all her invitations.
Rodd was there. That was all she knew, he was there among those empty,
voracious people.

He moved towards her and caught her as she was passed from one group to
another.

'Forgive me,' he said. 'I had to come and see you. I thought it was
for the last time.... I know all your story, even down to to-night.
He is going away.'

'Charles?'

'Yes.'

'I can't stay here. I can't stand it.... You are not going to stay.'

'How do you know?'

'I was with you all through to-night....'

Their eyes met. Again there was nothing but they two. All pretence,
all mummery had vanished. Life had become pure and strong, more rich
and wonderful even than the play i