“I’ll always be ready to come on demand, you know, Cecily. What I hope is that you can fight your way through this. You mustn’t expect things to clear perfectly and absolutely. The best any one of us gets is a ray of hope and enlightenment now and then. You may have to compromise--even if it hurts you. But you won’t have to compromise your ideals, Cecily--just the manner of putting them over.” She had fallen back into her chair and sat there looking at the fire. “I’m going now.” Cecily made a bewildered gesture of protest. He turned to the door, but she sprang up, hurrying after him. “It will be so terrible alone--again. Don’t go.” Her hands were stretched out towards him in appeal and they faced each other trembling. Then Matthew’s voice came--unnatural, shaken: “I can’t stay now, Cecily. It would only make you more wretched.” She heard the door close and was alone in the warm, softly lit room, helplessly sobbing. Matthew hurried along as if trying to escape from the thoughts or suggestions that pursued him. Through the darkened streets, choosing side streets for his progress, almost stumbling in his absorption, he walked for miles, apparently seeing nothing, all the keenness of observation that was usual with him obscured in his face. It was midnight when he reached his home, and entering softly, went upstairs. The light from Fliss’s room shone bright into the hallway. He was passing when she called him back. “Late, aren’t you, Matthew?” He stood silhouetted in her doorway, looking unkempt and worn. Fliss was at her dressing table brushing the luxuriant hair of which she was so proud. She looked at him curiously. “Where on earth have you been to look like that?” “Like what? I took a walk and it’s damp outside.” “You certainly must have walked,” commented Fliss. “Sit down here and rest and talk to me.” “I’m tired. I think I’ll go along to bed.” “How’s Cecily?” “Very fine.” “Glad to see you.” “She’s always cordial.” “Not very expansive are you, darling? Well, sit down anyway. I want to tell you about my evening. I’ve had an exciting one.” “Who was here?” “Gordon.” “That must have passed the time.” “Gordon was very trying to-night. Excitable.” He looked at her curiously as she brushed out the black, shining lengths. For the first time since he came in he seemed to see her as something other than an obstacle. “What was he excitable about?” “Me. He wanted me--to make love to me.” “Oh, my God!” said Matthew, laughing as if the thing that amused him was not at all funny. “Amused?” “I was laughing at the foolishness of men, Fliss.” “Not so foolish,” said Fliss, drily. “He was very much in earnest. And as it happens that he cares a lot I was almost tempted to pack my bag. What would you have done?” “Gone after you.” She looked around at him skeptically. “Well, anyway I didn’t run. I called that whole business off. Told him there was nothing doing at all. He won’t be back.”