“By Jove, I was forgetting! Best news you ever heard of! Tillie married and has a baby--all in twenty-four hours! Boy--they named it Le Moyne. Squalled like a maniac when the water went on its head. I--I took Mrs. McKee out in a hired machine. That's what happened to my capital.” He grinned sheepishly. “She said she would have to go in her toque. I had awful qualms. I thought it was a wrapper.” “You, of course,” she said. “You find Max and save him--don't look like that! You did, didn't you? And you get Joe away, borrowing money to send him. And as if that isn't enough, when you ought to have been getting some sleep, you are out taking a friend to Tillie, and being godfather to the baby.” He looked uncomfortable, almost guilty. “I had a day off. I--” “When I look back and remember how all these months I've been talking about service, and you said nothing at all, and all the time you were living what I preached--I'm so ashamed, K.” He would not allow that. It distressed him. She saw that, and tried to smile. “When does Joe go?” “To-night. I'm to take him across the country to the railroad. I was wondering--” “Yes?” “I'd better explain first what happened, and why it happened. Then if you are willing to send him a line, I think it would help. He saw a girl in white in the car and followed in his own machine. He thought it was you, of course. He didn't like the idea of your going to Schwitter's. Carlotta was taken ill. And Schwitter and--and Wilson took her upstairs to a room.” “Do you believe that, K.?” “I do. He saw Max coming out and misunderstood. He fired at him then.” “He did it for me. I feel very guilty, K., as if it all comes back to me. I'll write to him, of course. Poor Joe!” He watched her go down the hall toward the night nurse's desk. He would have given everything just then for the right to call her back, to take her in his arms and comfort her. She seemed so alone. He himself had gone through loneliness and heartache, and the shadow was still on him. He waited until he saw her sit down at the desk and take up a pen. Then he went back into the quiet room. He stood by the bedside, looking down. Wilson was breathing quietly: his color was coming up, as he rallied from the shock. In K.'s mind now was just one thought--to bring him through for Sidney, and then to go away. He might follow Joe to Cuba. There were chances there. He could do sanitation work, or he might try the Canal. The Street would go on working out its own salvation. He would have to think of something for the Rosenfelds. And he was worried about Christine. But there again, perhaps it would be better if he went away. Christine's story would have to work itself out. His hands were tied.