"I know, dear old boy," said De Gollyer, feeling sharply vulnerable in the eyes and throat. "It's terrible--it's awful. All in a second! Everything turned upside down, everything smashed!" "You must go away," said De Gollyer anxiously. "My whole life wrecked," continued Lightbody, without hearing him, "nothing left--not the slightest, meanest thing left!" "Dear boy, you must go away." "Only last night she was sitting here, and I there, reading a book." He stopped and put forth his hand. "This book!" "Jack, you must go away for a while." "What?" "Go away!" "Oh, yes, yes. I suppose so. I don't care." Leaning against the desk, he gazed down at the rug, mentally and physically inert. De Gollyer, returning to his nature, said presently: "I say, dear old fellow, it's awfully delicate, but I should like to be frank, from the shoulder--out and out, do you mind?" "What? No." Seeing that Lightbody had only half listened, De Gollyer spoke with some hesitation: "Of course it's devilish impudent. I'll offend you dreadfully. But, I say, now as a matter of fact, were you really so--so seraphically happy?" "What's that?" "As a matter of fact," said De Gollyer changing his note instantly, "you were happy, _terrifically_ happy, _always_ happy, weren't you?" Lightbody was indignant. "Oh, how can you, at such a moment?" The new emotion gave him back his physical elasticity. He began to pace up and down, declaiming at his friend, "I was happy, _ideally_ happy. I never had a thought, not one, for anything else. I gave her everything. I did everything she wanted. There never was a word between us. It was _ideal_" De Gollyer, somewhat shamefaced, avoiding his angry glance, said hastily: "So, so, I was quite wrong. I beg your pardon." "_Ideally_ happy," continued Lightbody, more insistently. "We had the same thoughts, the same tastes, we read the same books. She had a mind, a wonderful mind. It was an _ideal_ union." "The devil, I may be all wrong," thought De Gollyer to himself. He crossed his arms, nodded his head, and this time it was with the profoundest conviction that he repeated: "You adored her." "I _adored_ her," said Lightbody, with a ring to his voice. "Not a word against her, not a word. It was not her fault. I know it's not her fault." "You must go away," said De Gollyer, touching him on the shoulder. "Oh, I must! I couldn't stand it here in this room," said Lightbody bitterly. His fingers wandered lightly over the familiar objects on the desk, shrinking from each fiery contact. He sat down. "You're right, I must get away." "You're dreadfully hard hit, aren't you?" "Oh, Jim!" Lightbody's hand closed over the book and he opened it mechanically in the effort to master the memory. "This book--we were reading it last night together."