“No,” said John in the obstinate tone that Herold had known for many years. “You and I are two men, and Stella is a woman, and a hell-mess just like that--” he pointed to the tempest--“has upset our lives. It's time to put them to rights again.” “I don't know what you 're talking about,” said Herold. “It 's a pity you have chosen to-night. Things are a bit abnormal. Let us go to bed, and talk to-morrow, if you like, in the light of common sense.” John folded his arms. “I'm going to talk to-night. I want you calmly to consider the position.” “I do,” said Herold. “Stop,”---as John was about, to interrupt,--“let me speak.” “Yes,” said Stella, breaking silence for the first time; “let Walter speak.” But she stood apart, fascinated by this strange duel, as her primitive ancestress might have done when two males fought for her with flint-headed axes. “What I feel as regards Stella is neither here nor there. I 've never told her that I loved her. I 've never told you. Both you and she have told me that you love each other. That was enough for me. I joined with Unity in seeking to remove the obstacle in the path of your happiness. If Unity had not forestalled me, I--well, God knows what I should have done! I left you asleep that evening, and went, half crazy, to the flat, and there I found what I found. But, anyhow, Unity committed murder and suicide to set the two of you free. If you want strong, blatant words, there you have them. A girl, one of God's chosen, has laid down her life for the two of you.” He stood between them and threw up his hands. “Take each other. It is a sacrament.” Stella, her arms still on the back of the chair, hung her head and stared downward. John cast a quick glance at her and then, a thing which he rarely did, drew his great frame up to its full height and challenged his friend. “If you don't love her, she loves you. I know.” Herold said: “You two belong to each other.” “Then Stella must decide,” said John. She threw out a flutter of delicate fingers and covered her face. “No, no!” she gasped. The lightning flickered mildly in the well-lit room, and the eventual thunder reverberated in distant anger. John again came close to Herold. “This may be an extraordinary conversation, but it has to be. If Stella loved me, do you think she would stand like that?” Stella dropped to her knees, her face and arms huddled against the chair. “My dear old man, I 've learned many things of late. I can't tell you exactly. I'm not good at that sort of thing. But Unity has been too big for me.” Stella raised a white face. “What do you mean? Say exactly what you mean.” “I mean--oh, God knows what I mean.” He strode blindly across the room, returned, and faced the two, still near together. “Can't you understand?” he cried, with a wide gesture. “I'm infinitesimal sand beneath that child's feet. I'm a blind mole in comparison with her transcendent vision. I 'm in the dust. Oh, God!” He turned away.