And they did not know that it was the place that was casting them out. They were going back to their cities, to their disciplined places, to their streets and solemn houses, their inventions, their rails and lines and ordered lives; and so the place would cast them out. It would have its last wild game with them. The ancient man gave a last shrill scream and was silent. The horse relapsed into a shamble; they were in the dark, solemn streets. They climbed the hill to the station. They began to straighten themselves, and already to forget that it had been, in the least, terrible. “After all,” said Tony, “it was probably a good thing that we came at that pace. We might have missed the train.” He helped Janet to tidy herself. Miss Minns was profuse in her apologies: “Really, Mr. Maradick, I don’t know what you can have thought of me. Really, it was most immodest; and I am afraid that I bumped you rather awkwardly. It was most——” But he stopped her and assured her that it was all right. He was thinking, as they climbed the hill, that in another quarter of an hour they would both be gone, gone out of his life altogether probably. There would be nothing left for him beyond his explanations; his clearing up of the bits, as it were, and Mrs. Lester. But he would not think of her now; he put her resolutely from him for the moment. The thought of her seemed desecration when these two children were with him—something as pure and beautiful as anything that the world could show. He would think of her afterwards, when they had gone. But as he looked at them a great pang of envy cut him like a knife. Ah! that was what life meant! To have some one to whom you were the chief thing in the world, some one who was also the chief thing to you! And he? Here, at forty, he had got nothing but a cheque book and a decent tailor. They got out of the cab. It was ten minutes before the train left. It was there, waiting. Tony went to get the tickets. Janet suddenly put her hand on Maradick’s arm and looked up into his face: “Mr. Maradick,” she said, “I haven’t been able, I haven’t had a chance to say very much to you about all that Tony and I owe you. But I feel it; indeed, indeed I do. And I will never, never forget it. Wherever Tony and I are there will always be a place for you if you want one. You won’t forget that, will you?” “No, indeed,” said Maradick, and he took her hand for a moment and pressed it. Then suddenly his heart stopped beating. The station seemed for a moment to be pressed together, so that the platform and the roof met and the bookstall and the people dotted about disappeared altogether.