And so we talked together. I told Jenny how I had escaped, and what Worthing had done for my sake. And as I told the story I realized more than ever the significance of the self-abnegating act. To save me he had made himself a liar and a thief. What that must mean to one with his passion for law and authority I could only dimly imagine. As for me I should have been willing to perjure myself a hundred times over for anyone I loved, but I knew by all my experience of his nature how such guilt would rankle in Worthing's soul. He had set himself up against the law. He had violated the ruling principle of his life. He had swerved aside from the clear straight path he had marked out for himself. And all to save his friend, whose conduct he had never pretended to sympathize with or condone. I worked myself up into a fine emotion as I spoke of all this to Jenny. She said thoughtfully, "He loves you, Tommy; that's why." I thought I could read in her steady eyes, "And I would have done the same." So the evening wore away, while the darkness closed in like a visible shadow drawing ever nearer. And it was time for me to depart. CHAPTER XIX INTO THE FIRE I opened the window and looked out into the night, glad to see the sky veiled in thick clouds which didn't let a single star through. For the darkness would befriend me better than the brightest moon. I said good-bye to Jenny, and climbed out on to the sill, and feeling for a firm branch of ivy carefully began to lower myself till my face was on a level with the window-ledge. There I paused to say a last farewell, and Jenny stooping swiftly caught my cheeks between her little hands and kissed me with a passionate vigour, saying, "You'll find him, Tommy?" "And kill him," I answered, and recommenced the descent. I reached the ground safely, and looking up heard a faint whisper, "Good-bye, Tommy; good-bye." But it was too dark to see my little friend; and I moved away, keeping close to the wall.