humiliation, her agony of temptation. He had but followed the message which
his simple faith took to be divine. The trivial name of Dix would be the
instrument wherewith the deliverance of Emmy from the House of Bondage
should be effected. He went out cheerily, stared for a moment at the Hall
Porter, vaguely associating him with the matter in hand, but forgetting
exactly why, and strode into the street, feeling greatly uplifted. The
broad-shouldered men who jostled him as he pursued his absent-minded and
therefore devious course no longer appeared potential champions to be
greatly envied. He felt that he was one of them, and blessed them as they
jostled him, taking their rough manners as a sign of kinship. The life of
Holborn swallowed him. He felt glad who once hated the dismaying bustle.
His heart sang for joy. Something had been given him to do for the sake of
the woman he loved. What more can a man do than lay down his life for a
friend? Perhaps he can do a little more for a loved woman: marry somebody
else.

Deep down in his heart he loved Zora. Deep down in his heart, too, dwelt
the idiot hope that the miracle of miracles might one day happen. He loved
the hope with a mother's passionate love for a deformed and imbecile child,
knowing it unfit to live among the other healthy hopes of his conceiving.
At any rate, he was free to bring her his daily tale of worship, to glean a
look of kindness from her clear eyes. This was his happiness. For her sake
he would sacrifice it. For Zora's sake he would marry Emmy. The heart of
Septimus was that of a Knight-Errant confident in the righteousness of his
quest. The certainty had come all at once in the flash of inspiration.
Besides, was he not carrying out Zora's wish? He remembered her words. It
would be the greatest pleasure he could give her--to become her brother,
her real brother. She would approve. And beyond all that, deep down also in
his heart he knew it was the only way, the wise, simple, Heaven-directed
way.