side, a world-feeling to which race-feeling seemed stupid and very
small. The triumphs of art aroused this world-feeling within him, and in
his love of art he believed that he touched his highest point. As
Isaacson's mental unconventionality put him _en rapport_ with Nigel, his
Jewishness, very differently, put him _en rapport_ with her. There is a
communion of repulsion as well as a communion of affection. Isaacson
knew that Mrs. Chepstow and he could be linked by their dislike. His
instinct was to avoid her, not to let this link be formed. Subsequent
circumstances made him ask himself whether men do not often call things
towards them with the voices of their fears.

The season was waning fast, was nearly at an end, when one night, very
late, Nigel called in Cleveland Square. Isaacson had just come back from
dining with the Dean of Waynfleet when the bell rang. He feared a
professional summons, and was relieved when a sleepy servant asked if he
would see Mr. Armine. They met in a small, upstairs room where Isaacson
sat at night, a room lined with books, cosy, but perhaps a little
oppressive. As Nigel came in quickly with a light coat over his arm and
a crush hat in his hand, a clock on the mantel piece struck one.

"I caught sight of you just now in St. James's Street in your motor, or
I wouldn't have come so late," Nigel said. "Were you going straight to
bed? Tell me the truth. If you were, I'll be off."

"I don't think I was. I've been dining out, and should have had to read
something. That's why you kept your coat?"

"To demonstrate my good intention. Well!"

He put the coat and hat on a chair.