Still Armstrong hesitated, looking steadily away. "You've condoned the fact, then, that I've cut you dead on the street regularly?" "I understood--and didn't blame you. There are dozens of people who know Old Man Roberts and still never see him when passing face to face. It's all in the game." At last Armstrong's glance returned, almost with wonder. "And you don't lay it up against them?" "Sometimes. Usually, however, not. Life's too short to play with toys; and enmities are toys--double-edged ones at that. You haven't answered my question yet." "I know; but just a moment more. Do you recall, by the way, a prophecy I made once, years ago?" "Yes; it never came true as far as I am concerned." "Perhaps you never had cause to have it do so." "Possibly." "With me it did come about. I've hated you ever since--from the day you left. Do you realize why I haven't answered your question?" "Yes, why you haven't. I'm still waiting." "I'm wondering," mused Armstrong, "why I don't hate you, now that we're here together. I've thought a lot of bitter things about you, more than about any one in the world. I don't know why I don't say them now that I've got the chance." "Yes, you have the chance. I'm listening." "I know." Armstrong's long fingers were twitching nervously. Despite an effort to prevent his lower lip trembled in sympathy. "And still, now that for the first time I have the chance, I can't. I don't want to. I--" Of a sudden an uncontrollable moisture came into his eyes, and he shifted about abruptly until his face was hid. "Damn you, Darley Roberts!" he stormed inadequately, "I don't want to a bit, but after all I trust you and--and like you. You have my permission to intrude. I want you to, have wanted you to a hundred times." The Rubicon was crossed at last and he made the admission that for long had trembled on his tongue. "Somehow I can't get along without you and keep my nerve. I think you're the only person in the world who even in a measure understands me, and can maybe make a man of me again." [Illustration: "You mean to suggest that Elice," he began, "that Elice--You dare to suggest that to me?" (_Page 107_)] In his place Darley Roberts sat looking at the other, merely looking at him. The silence grew embarrassing, lasted into minutes; but still unconsciously he remained as he was. At last suddenly his eyes dropped and simultaneously the fingers of his big hands twitched in a way that heralded action. Whatever the problem of that period of silence decision had come. "I think I understand what you mean," he said deliberately. "Perhaps, too, it's true. I don't know. Anyway I'll try to play the game--try to." He remembered, and the hands lay still. "By the way, you're not working now?" "No." "Have you anything definite in sight?" Despite the permission he had granted but a moment before Armstrong colored; with an effort he met his questioner frankly. "No," again.