d Chichester, as if making a
great effort, driven to it by some intense feeling.

"You call yourself his friend!" said Lady Sophia. Her voice vibrated with
scorn.

"At any rate, he was mine, my best friend. And now he has gone forever!"

Lady Sophia drew in her breath.

"You hypocrite!" she said. "You hypocrite!"

She spoke like one under the influence of an emotion so intense that it
could not be gainsaid.

"To pretend you admired him, loved him--_you_!"

"I did admire and love him."

She seemed to be struck dumb by his quiet manner, by the conviction in
his voice. In a moment she turned round again toward Malling. Her face
had quite changed. It was working nervously. The mouth quivered. She
stood for a moment, then suddenly she made for the door. As she passed
Malling, she whispered: "The strength--where is it? Oh, I'm afraid of
him! I'm afraid of him!"

She disappeared. Almost immediately Mailing heard the street door shut.

"I--I cannot pretend to her," Chichester said, "even in my own house."

He seemed greatly moved, almost on the verge of tears.

"I'll leave you alone," said Mailing. "You need to be alone."

"Thank you! Thank you!" said Chichester.

And without another word he went into the bedroom, shutting the
folding-doors behind him.

At half-past seven that same evening Malling was with Professor Stepton,
and made what the professor called his "report."

"Ah!" said the professor when he had finished.

"Did you expect Chichester to behave like that, to be like that?" asked
Mailing.

"I hoped he would."

"Hoped! Why?"

"Because it enables me to accept as facts certain things about which I
must otherwise have remained in doubt. Of course I must see Chichester
for myself. But he'll be just the same, just the same."

The professor's eyes shone, and he poked his chin forward.

"The reverend gentlemen of St. Joseph's have provided me with a basis,"
he exclaimed emphatically.

"A basis! For what?" asked Mailing.

"For future experiments and investigations of a highly interesting
nature. Ruskin was very often wrong, but he was right when he said, in a
lucid moment, that every creature is precious. Well, good-night, Malling.
I must get to work. I'll explain everything to you later."

Almost joyously he shut the door on his friend. Almost joyously he sat
down once more before his writing-table and seized his pen and his
note-book.

But he did not begin to write. His face suddenly chang