"She's been a little--a little seedy, and has gone down to stay with the Imasons for a bit," John explained, taking care not to look at Caylesham. "Oh, I hope she'll be all right soon! Give her my remembrances when you write--or perhaps you'll be running down?" "I don't know. It depends on business." "Come, you'll take Christmas off, anyhow?" Then John took refuge in talking about Tom Courtland. But his mind was far from Tom. He managed at last to look Caylesham in the face, and grew more amazed at his perfect ease and composure. He was acutely conscious of giving exactly the opposite impression himself, acutely fearful that he was betraying that hidden knowledge of his. Actuated by this fear, he tried to increase his cordiality, hitting wildly at the mark, and indulging in forced friendliness and even forced jocosity. Caylesham met every effort with just the right tone, precisely the right amount of effusiveness. He had taken a very hard view of what John had done--harder than he could contrive to take of what he himself had--and had expressed it vigorously to Christine. But now he found himself full of pity for poor John. The sight of the man fighting for the remnant of his pride and self-respect was pathetic. And John did it so lamentably ill. "You're a paragon of a debtor," Caylesham told him, when he harked back to the money again. "My money's a deal safer in your hands than in my own. I'm more in your debt than you are in mine." "You shall have every farthing the first day I can manage it." His eagerness told Caylesham what a burden on his soul the indebtedness was. It was impossible to ignore altogether what was so plainly shown; but he turned the point of it, saying: "I know how punctilious you men of business are. I wish fellows were always the same in racing. I'm ready to take it as soon as you're ready to pay, and to wait till you're ready." "I shan't ask you to wait a day," John assured him. Enough had passed for civility; Caylesham was eager to get away--not for his own sake so much as for John's. "By Jove, I've got an appointment!" he exclaimed suddenly, diving for his watch. "Half-past six! Oh, I must jump into a cab!" He held the watch in one hand, and hailed a cab with his stick. "Good-bye, old fellow," he said, turning away. He had seen John begin to put out his hand in a hesitating reluctant way. He would have liked to shake hands himself, but he knew John hated to do it. John made a last demonstration of ignorance. "Come and see us some day!" he called almost jovially. "Yes, I will some day before long," Caylesham shouted back from the step of his hansom. As he drove off, John was still standing on the pavement, waving a hand to him. Caylesham drove round the corner, then got down again, and pursued his way on foot.