own weakness. He knew he could not answer. He had an unreasonable fear,
lest the other man should suddenly destroy him. Whereas Maurice was
actually filled with hot, poignant love, the passion of friendship.
Perhaps it was this very passion of friendship which Bertie shrank from
most.

'We're all right together now, aren't we?' said Maurice. 'It's all right
now, as long as we live, so far as we're concerned?'

'Yes,' said Bertie, trying by any means to escape.

Maurice stood with head lifted, as if listening. The new delicate
fulfilment of mortal friendship had come as a revelation and surprise to
him, something exquisite and unhoped-for. He seemed to be listening to
hear if it were real.

Then he turned for his coat.

'Come,' he said, 'we'll go to Isabel.'

Bertie took the lantern and opened the door. The cat disappeared. The two
men went in silence along the causeways. Isabel, as they came, thought
their footsteps sounded strange. She looked up pathetically and anxiously
for their entrance. There seemed a curious elation about Maurice. Bertie
was haggard, with sunken eyes.

'What is it?' she asked.

'We've become friends,' said Maurice, standing with his feet apart, like
a strange colossus.