‘You are not without ambition,’ pursued Sebastian, fixing his eyes upon Myles with conviction, and noting the answering flush in his face, though his eyes remained downcast. ‘No man who is worth anything is without ambition. If you would let me, I could put you into the way of furthering your ambition. Of course it would be a struggle; but then you are one of the right kind to struggle--you like it. A few years’ absence from England, a few years’ hard work in a post for which you would be well suited, and you might return here, if you liked, a different man, in a different position, able to do and get pretty much what you liked. Remember, to a man of courage, who has made a mark, _most things that he wishes for stand open_. Is this nothing to you? Do you prefer remaining shut up in Thanshope, with your own prospects, and the prospects of your fellow-workmen no better than they are? I cannot believe it of you.’ Almost unconsciously, Sebastian had half-cast aside the mask of indifference, and was speaking nearly as eagerly as he felt. He had stepped up to Myles, and laid his hand upon his arm. Their eyes met. Myles’s very soul had been stirred by the words he had heard. They had touched the very well-spring of his present wishes and desires, the longing which had grown and intensified with his love and his sense of its utter hopelessness. To leave this place--go away to some other spot, where there would be scope for hard work, mental and bodily--work that would absorb his energies. There was nothing he desired more than such work. His enforced idleness was absolutely hideous to him. Out of England, he might advance, rise; Sebastian, he knew, was not wont to speak rashly or unadvisedly on such matters, but was given to measuring his words. He might return an altered man, well off, perhaps, or at least with the means of becoming well off; why, he might (it all seemed to flash in a second through his mind)--he might go at last, and seek Adrienne--and find her gone, hear that she was Sebastian Mallory’s wife. And _then_ the acceptance of Sebastian Mallory’s assistance would have caused his last state to be worse than his first. He would have stooped, not to conquer, but to be forestalled, defeated, humiliated, and all the riches, and all the position that the world could give, would not restore his hopes and his lost self-respect. With a short sardonic, miserable laugh, he jerked his arm from Sebastian’s hand, and said almost angrily, ‘It is of no use. You will never persuade me to that. It is wasted breath to try it.’ Sebastian felt an absolute thrill of vexation and mortification; a thrill so strong as to surprise himself. ‘What makes you so obstinate?’ he unwarily exclaimed. ‘Is it some personal reason?’ ‘Yes,’ answered Myles, looking him directly in the eyes; ‘it is!’