He put his arms suddenly round her, drew her to him, and kissed her. For both of them the world stood still, and the commonplace gardens were Eden, and the old peasant nodded his weatherbeaten head, and the mongrel and the dusty child looked on unastonished, like the beasts when the first apple was eaten. Raine went, an hour or so after, to the Hôtel National and found Hockmaster outside, cultivating a dinner appetite with sherry and bitters. He jumped up when he perceived his visitor, and came towards him. “Hello, Chetwynd! This is real friendly of you. Come and sit down--join me.” Raine accepted the seat, but declined the sherry. “Do you mind my asking you a very intimate question?” asked Raine. “As many as you like,” said Hockmaster, with naïve effusion. “I have given you a sort of right to be familiar. Of course, whether I answer it is a matter for my discretion.” “Precisely. But I hope you will. Are your feelings very deeply engaged in this affair with Mrs. Stapleton?” “Sir,” said Hockmaster. “I've repaired a wrong that has set at rest a damned uneasy conscience.” “From which I gather you have obeyed your conscience rather than your heart,” said Raine. “I am going to be married,” replied Hockmaster, between the first puffs of a cigar he was lighting. “Perhaps you may not know that. So I guess I'd better fall back upon discretion. It is best in affairs between man and wife.” “Yes, but suppose it was broken off?” “What? My marriage?” He stretched himself out in a comfortable attitude, his hands behind his head, and regarded Raine placidly. “What sort of interest can the concerns of a worm like me have for you?” “Every interest in the world,” replied Raine, flushing. “If it's merely a question of conscience on your part, I have no scruple in asking you to release Mrs. Stapleton from her engagement.” “Did she send you?” “Yes.” “Tell you any reason?” Hockmaster's tone irritated Raine. He rose quickly, thrusting his straw hat to the back of his head, and stood over the recumbent American, with his hands on his hips. “Yes, she did. Mrs. Stapleton is going to marry me.” The words brought the other to his feet with a force that nearly upset the small table in front of him. “God alive, man!” he cried, realizing the whole situation in a rush. “Why on earth didn't you tell me before?” The two men looked into one another's eyes. It was Raine who was first disconcerted. The intense distress of the other was too genuine for him not to feel touched. “You're the first man for years,” said Hockmaster, “that I have felt drawn to in friendship; and I have been powerfully drawn to you. I would have cut off my head sooner than said or done anything to pain you Why didn't you stop me this morning?” “I tried to dissuade you.” Hockmaster threw away his extinct cigar, and put his hands in his pockets dejectedly.