"Yes. What?"

"J-j-just good-by," said Mellin.

And with that young Cooley was gone.





IX. Expiation

A multitudinous clangor of bells and a dozen neighboring chimes rang
noon; then the rectangular oblongs of hot sunlight that fell from the
windows upon the carpet of Mellin's room began imperceptibly to shift
their angles and move eastward. From the stone pavement of the street
below came the sound of horses pawing and the voices of waiting cabmen;
then bells again, and more bells; clamoring the slow and cruel afternoon
into the past. But all was silent in Mellin's room, save when, from time
to time, a long, shuddering sigh came from the bed.

The unhappy young man had again drawn the coverlet over his head, but
not to sleep: it was more like a forlorn and desperate effort to hide,
as if he crept into a hole, seeking darkness to cover the shame and fear
that racked his soul. For though his shame had been too great to let him
confess to young Cooley and ask for help, his fear was as great as
his shame; and it increased as the hours passed. In truth his case was
desperate. Except the people who had stripped him, Cooley was the
only person in all of Europe with whom he had more than a very casual