"You knew it, then," he said, after a long while. "I didn't intend you
should, Mark. I didn't intend you ever should."

"Naturally," said I in an icy tone.

"Naturally," said he. His face came into the light again, and he
leaned there on the table, watching me as earnestly as ever.

"Naturally," he said again. "I was going away, Mark, never to bother
you nor her. Did I know then that you loved her? Had you ever told
me? Was I to blame for that moment when I knew I loved the girl and
that she loved me?"

"No. I never told you--that's true," I said.

"And yet I knew you cared for her, Mark. I could see that. I saw it
all those nights when you would leave me to go plodding up the hill.
That's why I went away."

"Why did you go away?" I cried. "You went to see the world and make
money----"

"I went because I loved the girl and you did, too," said Tim. And
looking into those quiet eyes, I knew that he spoke the truth and I had
been blind all this time. "Weston knew it," he went on. "He saw it
from the first. That's why he helped me."

"You are not at all an egotist," I sneered, trying to bear up against
him.