They talked politics and theatres till the unappetising meal was ended and Paul pocketed his treasure with a sigh. It was the first time Theo had ignored one of her letters; and the simple-hearted fellow--quite unaware that his mention of the other man had been a master-stroke of policy--felt almost at his wits' end. Standing by the mantelpiece mechanically filling his pipe, he watched Desmond set out his books and papers on the table near the window, intent on a morning of abnormal industry; and the pathos of it all caught at his heart. For the first time in his controlled and ordered life he felt impelled to carry a situation by storm--the result possibly of playing Providence to Theo for the space of a year. But Theo plus a woman, loving and beloved, whom he obstinately refused to meet, was a problem demanding far more of diplomacy, of intimate human experience than Paul Wyndham had been blest withal. The one obvious service required of him was easier to recognise than to achieve. By some means these two must be brought together in spite of themselves; but for all his forty years he was pathetically at a loss to know how the deuce one contrived that sort of thing. It was a woman's job. Mrs Olliver, now, could have fixed it all up in a twinkling; while he--poor clumsy fool!--could only sit there smoking and racking his brain, while his eyes perfunctorily scanned the columns of the _Morning Post_. The doings of the world and the misdoings of those in power, earthquakes, shipwrecks, and rumours of wars--all these were as nothing to him compared with the insignificant tangle of one man and one woman among the whole seething, suffering throng. But concern brought him no nearer to the unravelling of their tangle; and when the time came to go he could think of nothing better than a direct appeal to his friend. Desmond still sat at the table, head in hand, absorbed in the intricacies of military tactics. Paul rose and went over to him. "I'm going now, old chap." The matter of fact statement was made with indescribable gentleness. "I'll be back in an hour or so. Wish to goodness you were coming too." "Damned if you can wish it more than I do," Desmond answered without looking up. "Well then--come. Is it really--so impossible as you think?" Desmond nodded decisively. "Can't you see it for yourself, man? Even if she _was_ quit of that other confounded fellow, how could I face telling her--the truth?" For a moment Paul was silenced; not because he found the question unanswerable, but because of that hidden knowledge which he might not disclose, even to save his friend. "My dear Theo," he said at last, "I know--and you know--that, sooner than lose her, you could go through any kind of fire. Besides, I have an idea she would understand----" "So have I," Desmond answered gruffly, "that's the deuce of it all. But it doesn't make a man less unworthy----" "If it comes to that," urged the diplomatist, "are any of us worthy?"