knew it, he despised himself for it, for this attitude of the schoolboy
in which he held himself. Until now he had believed that he was free
from such a preposterous and morbid bondage, free on account of his
constitutional indifference towards vice, his innate love of the brooding
calms of refinement and of the upper snowfields of the intellect. The
discovery of his mistake irritated him, but the irritation could not
conquer its cause, and each day the longing to sit once more grew upon
him until it became almost painful. It was this longing which occasioned
Valentine's avoidance of Julian. He knew that if they were together he
would yield to this foolish, witless temptation, and at any rate try to
persuade Julian into an act which might be attended with misfortune, if
not with disaster. And then Valentine's profound respect for Doctor
Levillier, a respect which the doctor inspired without effort in every
one who knew him, was a chain almost of steel to hold the young man back
from gratification of his longing. Valentine never sought any one's
advice except the little doctor's, and he had a strong feeling of the
obligation laid upon him by such sought advice. To ask it and to reject
it was a short course to insult.

He resolved to avoid Julian until this gripping desire was shaken from
the shoulders of his mind.

Once or twice he tacitly wondered whether Julian was also the prey of
this desire, but then he felt certain that his friend could not be so
afflicted. Had he been, Julian would surely have found a swift occasion
to call. But he did not call. His feet did not turn their accustomed
way to Victoria Street. And it did not occur to Valentine that Julian
might be immersed in the same sort of struggle as himself. He thought he
knew Julian well enough to be sure that he would not have joined issue
with such an enemy without instant consultation. A council of war would