"The thing is, I must simplify my life. I shall do nothing unless I simplify my life. Only people who are well off can be--complex. It is one thing or the other--" He hesitated and suddenly had a vision of Ethel weeping as once he had seen her weep with the light on the tears in her eyes. "No," he said almost brutally. "No. It's like this--I can't do anything underhand. I mean--I'm not so amazingly honest--now. But I've not that sort of mind. She would find me out. It would do no good and she would find me out. My life's too complex. I can't manage it and go straight. I--you've overrated me. And besides--Things have happened. Something--" He hesitated and then snatched at his resolve, "I've got to simplify--and that's the plain fact of the case. I'm sorry, but it is so." Miss Heydinger made no answer. Her silence astonished him. For nearly twenty seconds perhaps they sat without speaking. With a quick motion she stood up, and at once he stood up before her. Her face was flushed, her eyes downcast. "Good-bye," she said suddenly in a low tone and held out her hand. "But," said Lewisham and stopped. Miss Heydinger's colour left her. "Good-bye," she said, looking him suddenly in the eyes and smiling awry. "There is no more to say, is there? Good-bye." He took her hand. "I hope I didn't--" "Good-bye," she said impatiently, and suddenly disengaged her hand and turned away from him. He made a step after her. "Miss Heydinger," he said, but she did not stop. "Miss Heydinger." He realised that she did not want to answer him again.... He remained motionless, watching her retreating figure. An extraordinary sense of loss came into his mind, a vague impulse to pursue her and pour out vague passionate protestations.... Not once did she look back. She was already remote when he began hurrying after her. Once he was in motion he quickened his pace and gained upon her. He was within thirty yards of her as she drew near the gates. His pace slackened. Suddenly he was afraid she might look back. She passed out of the gates, out of his sight. He stopped, looking where she had disappeared. He sighed and took the pathway to his left that led back to the bridge and Vigours'. Halfway across this bridge came another crisis of indecision. He stopped, hesitating. An impertinent thought obtruded. He looked at his watch and saw that he must hurry if he would catch the train for Earl's Court and Vigours'. He said Vigours' might go to the devil. But in the end he caught his train. CHAPTER XXXII. THE CROWNING VICTORY.