He was lying curled up, as usual, on the sofa, smoking a cigarette. Kent was brooding over the fire. Fairfax had been rallying him from a doctor's point of view, and he had answered vaguely, striving not to let his friend's rough kindness jar too unbearably. He felt relieved when the doctor was called out to see a patient, and Wither and himself were left alone together. “I suppose I am making an ass of myself. I have never felt miserable before in all my life, and it must be that I am unused to it----” “It gets in your way like a man's court-sword on the first time of wearing,” said Wither. “Somewhat,” replied Kent, with a short laugh. He did not mind Wither's jesting. It came spontaneously from the small, bright-eyed man--was in fact his natural language. “Perhaps it does. I'll get over it some day.” “It will be all right when she comes back.” “She has come back.” “When?” “Nearly a week ago.” “And how are matters going between you?” “I haven't seen her yet,” said Kent moodily, staring into the fire. “That is to say, I have seen her. I have lain in wait for her, so as to catch a glimpse of her as she passed by. But I have not met her.” “And when do you propose going to see her?” “God knows! I don't.” “I don't know whether this is _fin de siècle_ or whether it belongs to the glacial epoch,” said Wither, drawing a breath of bewilderment. “At any rate, has it never struck you, friend John, that being in love with a woman is no reason why you should be rude to her?” “I have scarcely thought of that.” “Then, by Jove, the sooner you can get it into your muddled head, the better. What have you been doing with yourself these evenings?” “Anything to keep away. A meeting of the Geological, another of the Numismatic--a theatre, where there was just such another ass as myself. I couldn't stand it, so I went out and turned into the Empire and tried to find comfort in performing dogs. I have also dined out.” “You must have been a cheerful lot. What did you say to your partner?” “Nothing. She wanted to babble on, and I let her babble. Curse the whole thing!” he cried, smiting a block of coal with the poker, so hard that the chips flew over the hearthrug; “To think that it should be my fate to meet the only woman in the whole world who doesn't babble!” “I should consider it in the light of a privilege,” said Wither.