te,
it might possibly be called corruption."

"Thanks. Well, you've made me a very generous offer, Maddox, so
generous that I'm glad you've explained yourself before I took it. For
after that, you know, it would have been rather awkward for me to have
to tell you you're a liar!"

"You consider me a liar, do you?" said Maddox in a mild dispassionate
voice.

"Certainly I do, when you say these thing about Jewdwine."

"How about Rankin? He says them."

"Then Rankin's a liar, too!"

"And Stables?"

"_And_ Stables--if he says them."

"My dear Rickman, everybody says them; only they don't say them to
you. We can't all be liars."

"There's a difference, I admit. Anybody who says them is a liar; and
anybody who says them to _me_ is a d----d liar! That's the
difference."

Whereupon Maddox intimated (as honour indeed compelled him) that
Rickman was the sort of young fool for which there is no salvation.
And by the time Rickman had replied with suitable hyperbole; and
Maddox, because of the great love he bore to Rickman, had observed
that if Rickman chose to cut his confused throat he might do so
without its being a matter of permanent regret to Maddox; and Rickman,
because of the great love he bore to Maddox, had suggested his
immediate departure for perdition, it was pretty clearly understood
that Rickman himself preferred to perish, everlastingly perish, rather
than be connected even remotely with Maddox and his paper. And on that
understanding they separated.

And when the door was closed between them, Rickman realised that his
folly was even as Maddox had described it. In one night, and at a
crisis of his finances, he had severed himself from a fairly permanent
source of income; flung up the most desirable chance that had
presented itself hitherto in his career; and quarrelled disgracefully
and disagreeably with his best friend. He supposed the split was bound
to come; but if he could only have staved it off for another year,
till he had collected that seven hundred and fifty! There could be no
doubt that that was what he ought to have done. He ought to have been
prudent for Lucia's sake. And on the top of it all came the terrible
reflection--Was it really worth it? Did he really believe in Jewdwine?
Or had he sacrificed himself for an idea?

CHAPTER LXVII

Rickman could never be made to speak of the quarrel with Maddox. He
merely mentioned to Jewdwine in the most casual manner that he had
left _Th