and.

And so, in a few words, he told her of West's abortive attempt to plunge
a second time into the black depths from which he had so recently
escaped, of the man's absolutely selfless devotion, of his rigid refusal
to suffer even her love for him to move him from this attitude.

Cynthia listened with her bright eyes fixed unswervingly upon
Babbacombe's face. She made no comment of any sort when he ended. She
only pressed his hand.

He remained with her for some time, and when he got up to go at length,
it was with manifest reluctance. He lingered beside her after he had
spoken his farewell, as though he still had something to say.

"You will come again soon," said Cynthia.

"To-morrow," he answered. "And--Cynthia, there is just one thing I want
to say."

She looked up at him questioningly.

"Only this," he said. "You sent for me because you wanted a friend. I
want you from now onward to treat me and to think of me in that light
only. As I now see things, I do not think I shall ever be anything more
to you than just that. Remember it, won't you, and make use of me in any
way that you wish. I will gladly do anything."

The words went straight from his heart to hers. Cynthia's eyes filled
with sudden tears. She reached out and clasped his hand very closely.

"Dear Jack," she said softly; "you're just the best friend I have in the
world, and I sha'n't forget it--ever."

He called early on the following day, and received the information that
she was keeping her bed by the doctor's orders. Later in the day he went
again, and found that the doctor was with her. He decided to wait, and
paced up and down the drawing-room for nearly an hour. Eventually the
doctor came.

Babbacombe knew him slightly, and was not surprised when, at sight of
him in the doorway, the doctor turned aside at once, and entered the
room.

"Miss Mortimer told me I should probably see you," he said, "and if I
did so, she desired me to tell you everything. I am sorry to say that I
think very seriously of the injury. I have just been persuading her to
go into a private nursing-home. This is no place to be ill in, and I
shall have to perform a slight operation to-morrow which will
necessitate the use of an anaesthetic."

"An operation!" Babbacombe exclaimed, aghast.

"It is absolutely imperative," the doctor said, "to get at the seat of
the poison. I am making every effort to prevent the mischief spreading
any further. Should the operation