After all, there was no hurry. He knew the worst now; the blow had been struck, and only the dull, unending pain was with him--and would be till the hour came when he should free himself from it. He resolutely turned his mind away from Claudia. He could not bear to think about her. If only he could manage to think about nothing for an hour, sleep would come. He rose to take his candle, but at the same moment a waiter opened the door. "A gentleman to see you, sir." "To see me? Who is it?" "He says his name's Ayre, and he hopes you'll see him." "I can't see him at this time of night," said Stafford, with the petulance of weariness. Why did the man bother him? But Ayre had followed close on his messenger, and entered the room as Stafford spoke. "Pray forgive me, Mr. Stafford," he said, "for intruding on you so unceremoniously." Stafford received him with courtesy, but did not succeed in concealing his questioning as to the motive of the visit. Ayre took the chair his host gave him. "You think this a very strange proceeding on my part, I dare say?" "How did you know I was here?" "I had a wire from Eugene Lane. I'm afraid I seem to be taking a liberty, and that's a thing I hate doing. But I was most anxious to see you." "Has Eugene any news?" "What he says is this: It has happened as we feared. I am uneasy about him. Can you see him to-night?" "I suppose, then, my fortune is known to you?" "Yes; I wish I had seen you before you went. Do you mind my interfering?" "No, not now. You could have done no good before." "I could have told you it was no use." "I shouldn't have believed you." "I suppose you were bound to try it for yourself. Now, you think I don't understand your feelings." "I suppose most people think they know how a man feels when he's crossed in love," said Stafford, trying to speak lightly. "That's not the only thing with you." "No, it isn't," he replied, a little surprised. "I feel rather responsible for it all, you know. I was at the bottom of Morewood's showing you that picture." "It must have dawned on me sooner of later." "I don't know. But, yes--I expect so. You're hard hit." Stafford smiled. "Hard hit about her; and harder hit because it was a plunge to go into it at all." "You're quite right." "Of course I can't go into that side of it very much, but I think I know more or less how you feel." "I really think you do. It surprises me." "Yes. But, Stafford, may I go on taking liberties?" "I believe you are my friend. Let us put that sort of question out of the way. Why have you come?" "What does he mean by saying he's uneasy about you?" "It's the old fellow's love for me." Ayre was silent for a moment. Then he asked abruptly: "What are you going to do?" "I have hardly had time to look round yet." "Why should it make any difference to you?"