that morning to be with his friend. The thought of two ladies
waiting lunch did not deter him; stupid women, why shouldn't they
wait? Why should they interfere with their betters? With his ear
on the ground he listened to Rickie's departing steps, and
thought, "He wastes a lot of time keeping engagements. Why will
he be pleasant to fools?" And then he thought, "Why has he turned
so unhappy? It isn't as it he's a philosopher, or tries to solve
the riddle of existence. And he's got money of his own: "Thus
thinking, he fell asleep.

Meanwhile Rickie hurried away from him, and slackened and
stopped, and hurried again. He was due at the Union in ten
minutes, but he could not bring himself there. He dared not meet
Miss Pembroke: he loved her.

The devil must have planned it. They had started so gloriously;
she had been a goddess both in joy and sorrow. She was a goddess
still. But he had dethroned the god whom once he had glorified
equally. Slowly, slowly, the image of Gerald had faded. That was
the first step. Rickie had thought, "No matter. He will be bright
again. Just now all the radiance chances to be in her." And on
her he had fixed his eyes. He thought of her awake. He
entertained her willingly in dreams. He found her in poetry and
music and in the sunset. She made him kind and strong. She made
him clever. Through her he kept Cambridge in its proper place,
and lived as a citizen of the great world. But one night he
dreamt that she lay in his arms. This displeased him. He
determined to think a little about Gerald instead. Then the
fabric collapsed.