Paul held fast the other's hand a minute; he looked into the strange deep
face. "No, I _am_ an artist--I can't help it!"

"Ah show it then!" St. George pleadingly broke out. "Let me see before I
die the thing I most want, the thing I yearn for: a life in which the
passion--ours--is really intense. If you can be rare don't fail of it!
Think what it is--how it counts--how it lives!"

They had moved to the door and he had closed both his hands over his
companion's. Here they paused again and our hero breathed deep. "I want
to live!"

"In what sense?"

"In the greatest."

"Well then stick to it--see it through."

"With your sympathy--your help?"

"Count on that--you'll be a great figure to me. Count on my highest
appreciation, my devotion. You'll give me satisfaction--if that has any
weight with you." After which, as Paul appeared still to waver, his host
added: "Do you remember what you said to me at Summersoft?"

"Something infatuated, no doubt!"

"'I'll do anything in the world you tell me.' You said that."

"And you hold me to it?"