"So you did," said Pat doubtfully. The promise offered escape from a distressing situation, she thought, and yet--somehow, seeing Nick standing pathetically there, she couldn't imagine anything harmful emanating from him. There had been many and many evenings in his company that had passed delightfully, enjoyably, safely. She felt a wave of pity for him; after all, the affliction was his, most of the suffering was his. "We needn't take it so literally," she said almost reluctantly. "He'll be home very soon now." "I know," said Nick soberly, "but it was a promise, and besides, I'm afraid." "Never mind, Honey," she said, after a momentary hesitation. "Come up and sit here on the steps, then--here beside me. We can talk just as well as there on the settee." He climbed the steps and seated himself, watching Pat with longing eyes. He made no move to touch her, nor did she suggest a kiss. "I read your poem, Honey," she said finally. "It worried me." "I'm sorry, Pat. I couldn't sleep. I kept wandering around the house, and at last I wrote it and took it out and mailed it. It was a vent, a relief from the things I'd been thinking." "What things, Honey?" "A way, mostly," he answered gloomily, "of removing myself from your life. A permanent way." "Nick!" "I didn't, as you see, Pat. I was too cowardly, I suppose. Or perhaps it was because of this forlorn hope of ours. There's always hope, Pat; even the condemned man with his foot on the step to the gallows feels it." "Nick dear!" she cried, her voice quavering in pity. "Nick, you mustn't think of those things! It might weaken you--make it easier for _him_!" "It can't. If it frightens _him_, I'm glad." "Honey," she said soothingly, "we'll give Dr. Carl a chance. Promise me you'll let him try, won't you?" "Of course I will. Is there anything I'd refuse to promise you, Pat? Even," he added bitterly, "when reason tells me it's a futile promise." "Don't say it!" she urged fiercely. "We've got to help him. We've got to believe--There he comes!" she finished with sudden relief. The Doctor's car turned up the driveway beyond his residence. Pat saw his face regarding them as he disappeared behind the building. "Come on, Honey," she said. "Let's get at the business." They moved slowly over to the Doctor's door, waiting there until his ponderous footsteps sounded. A light flashed in the hall, and his broad shadow filled the door for a moment before it opened. "Come in," he rumbled jovially. "Fine evening we're spoiling, isn't it?" "It could be," said Pat as they followed him into the library, "only it'll probably rain some more." "Hah!" snorted the Doctor, frowning at the mention of rain. "The course was soft. Couldn't get any distance, and it added six strokes to my score. At least six!" Pat chuckled commiseratingly. "You ought to lay out a course in Greenland," she suggested. "They say anyone can drive a ball a quarter of a mile on smooth ice."