savored of weakness, yet he found himself swearing heartily as he
hurried on--meaningless swears which by their very childishness
brought him back to common sense. His step slowed, he forced himself
to be reasonable. He took a brief against his own unwarranted
disturbance of mind and reduced it to argument. There was nothing at
all strange, he pointed out, in Desire having called at old Bones'
office at this, or any other, time of day (but what under heaven did
she do it for?). She might easily have forgotten to tell the doctor
some-thing. (What in thunder would she have to tell him?) She might
have dropped in, in passing (at that hour of the morning?) merely to
ask him over for some tennis (was the dashed telephone out of
order?). Or she might have felt a trifle seedy (pshaw! her health
was perfect--idiot!). Anyway she had a perfect right to see Dr.
Rogers at any time and for any reason she might choose. (Yes, she
had--that was the devil of it!)

At this point of his argument the professor was nearly-run down by a
delivery boy on a bicycle and saved himself only by a sharp
collision with a telegraph pole. This served to clear his brain
somewhat. His confusion of thought dropped away. He began to look
his revelation in the face--

"Desire--John?"

It was certainly possible! Why had he never seen it before? . . . He
had been warned. John himself had warned him--Old John who had been
so palpably "hit" when he had first seen Desire at Friendly Bay. But
he, Benis Spence, had laughed. Honestly laughed. No possibility of
this possibility had troubled him. He simply had not seen it. And
now--he saw. The thing italicised itself on his brain.