t isn't so much that I don't want to marry her," declared the
accountant with startling abruptness, "as the awful thoughts I have as
to what may happen if I do. They're too awful to describe, even to you
two fellows. Of course nothing could make you think worse of me than you
must already, but you'd say I was mad if you could see inside my
horrible mind. I don't think she'd be safe; honestly I don't! I feel as
if I might do her some injury--or--or violence!"

He was swaying about the room with wild eyes staring from one to the
other of us and twitching fingers feeling in his pockets. I got up
myself and stood within reach of him, for now I felt certain that love
or illness had turned his brain. But it was only a very small scrap of
paper that he fished out of his waistcoat pocket, and handed first to
Delavoye and then to me.

"I cut it out of a review of such a peculiar poem in my evening paper,"
said Berridge. "I never read reviews, or poems, but those lines hit me
hard."

And I read:

"Yet each man kills the thing he loves,
By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!"

"But you don't feel like that!" said Delavoye, laughing at him; and the
laughter rang as false as his earlier consolation; but this time I had
not the presence of mind to supplement it.

Guy Berridge nodded violently as he held out his hand for the verse. I
could see that his eyes had filled with tears. But Uvo rolled the scrap
of paper into a pellet, which he flung among the lumps of asbestos
glowing in his grate, and took the outstretched hand in his. I never saw
man so gentle with another. Hardly a word more passed. But the poor
devil squeezed my fingers before Uvo led him out to see him home. And it
was many minutes before he returned.

"I have had a time of it!" said he, putting his feet to the gas fire.
"Not with that poor old thing, but his people, all three of them! I got
him up straight to bed, and then they kept me when he thought I'd gone.
Of course they know there's something wrong, and of course they blame
the girl; one knew they would. It seems they've never really approved of
her; she's a shocking instance of all-round peculiarity. They little
know the apple of their own blind eyes--eh, Gilly?"

"I hardly knew him myself," said I. "He must be daft! I never thought to
hear a grown man go on like t