Never had a walk seemed longer than the few blocks which he had
to traverse to reach his home. He must get there before the maid
was up, before the baker's boy called with the rolls; otherwise,
what explanation could he give?--he who had always been such a
moral man, who had been pointed out by mothers as an example to
their sons.

George thought of his own mother, and what she would think if she
could know about his night's adventure. He thought again and
again, with a pang of anguish, of Henriette. Could it be
possible that a man who was engaged, whose marriage contract had
actually been signed, who was soon to possess the love of a
beautiful and noble girl--that such a man could have been weak
enough and base enough to let himself be trapped into such a low
action?

He went back over the whole series of events, shuddering at them,
trying to realize how they had happened, trying to excuse himself
for them. He had not intended such a culmination; he had never
meant to do such a thing in his life. He had not thought of any
harm when he had accepted the invitation to the supper party with
his old companions from the law school. Of course, he had known
that several of these chums led "fast" lives--but, then, surely a
fellow could go to a friend's rooms for a lark without harm!

He remembered the girl who had sat by his side at the table. She
had come with a friend who was a married woman, and so he had
assumed that she was all right. George remembered how
embarrassed he had been when first he had noticed her glances at
him. But then the wine had begun to go to his head--he was one