first time since the room had been done over during his absence he
picked up the book.

"Rodney's idea, for a cent!" he reflected, looking rather grimly at
the cover.

He undressed slowly, his mind full of Graham and the problem he
presented. Then he thought of Natalie, and of the little things
that made up her life and filled her days. He glanced about the
room, beautiful, formal, exquisitely appointed. His father's
portrait was gone from over the mantel, and an old French
water-color hung there instead. That was too bad of Natalie. Or
had it been Rodney? He would bring it back. And he gave a fleeting
thought to Graham and his request to go abroad. He had not meant
it. It was sheer reaction. But he would talk to Graham.

He lighted a cigaret, and getting into bed turned on his reading
lamp. Queer how a man could build, and then find that after all he
did not care for the achievement. It was the building alone that
was worth while.

He picked up the book from the table, and opened it casually.

"When first I loved I gave my very soul
Utterly unreserved to Love's control,
But Love deceived me, wrenched my youth away,
And made the gold of life forever gray.
Long I lived lonely, yet I tried in vain
With any other joy to stifle pain;
There is no other joy, I learned to know,