Barrington started a little. His lips twitched nervously. He did not quite understand. “I am sure, Wingrave--” he began. Wingrave interrupted him ruthlessly. “I give you credit,” he continued, “for understanding that my attitude towards you since I--er--reappeared, has been inimical. I intended you to speculate, and you did speculate. I meant you to lose, and you have lost. The money I lent to your wife was meant to remain a rope around your neck. The fact that I lent it to her was intended to humiliate you, the attentions which I purposely paid to her in public were intended to convey a false impression to society--and in this, too, I fancy that I have been successful.” Barrington drew a thick breath--the dull color was mounting to his cheeks. Wingrave continued calmly-- “I had possibly in my mind, at one time,” he said, “the idea of drawing things on to a climax--of witnessing the final disappearance of yourself and your wife from the world--such as we know it. I have, however, ceased to derive amusement or satisfaction from pursuing what we may call my vengeance. Consequently, it is finished.” The light of hope leaped into Barrington’s dull eyes, but he recognized Wingrave’s desire for silence. “A few feet to your left, upon my writing table,” Wingrave continued, “you will find an envelope addressed to yourself. It contains a discharge, in full, for the money I have lent you. I have also ventured to place to your credit, at your own bank, a sum sufficient to give you a fresh start. When you return to Cadogan Square, or, at least, this evening, you will receive a communication from the Prime Minister, inviting you to become one of the International Board of Arbitration on the Alaskan question. The position, as you know, is a distinguished one, and if you should be successful, your future career should be assured.” Barrington broke down. He covered his face with his hands. Great sobs shook him. Wingrave waited for a few minutes, and then rose to his feet. “Barrington,” he said, “there is one thing more! What the world may say or think counts for very little. Society reverses its own judgments and eats its own words every day. A little success will bring it to your feet like a whipped dog. It is for yourself I say this, for yourself alone. There is no reason why you should hesitate to accept any service I may be able to render you. You understand me?” Barrington’s face was like the face of a young man. All the cloud of suspicion and doubts and fears was suddenly lifted. He looked through new eyes on to a new world. “Thank God!” he exclaimed. “Not that I ever doubted it, Wingrave, but--thank God!”...