In the five days of banishment just lived through, the need for a readjustment of his position with regard to her had come to him forcibly. The memory of the night when weakness and he had been at perilously close quarters had returned to him persistently and uncomfortably, spoiling the remembrance of his triumph. It had been well enough to smother the thought of that night in days of work. But had the ignoring of it blotted out the weakness? Had it not rather thrown it into bolder relief? A man strong in his own strength does not turn his back upon temptation; he faces and quells it. In the solitary days in Clifford's Inn, in the solitary night-hours spent in tramping the city streets, this had been the conviction that had recurred again and again, this the problem to which, after much consideration, he had found a solution--satisfactory at least to himself. When next Chilcote called him--It was notable that he had used the word “when” and not “if.” When next Chilcote called him he would make a new departure. He would no longer avoid Eve; he would successfully prove to himself that one interest and one alone filled his mind--the pursuance of Chilcote's political career. So does man satisfactorily convince himself against himself. He had this intention fully in mind as he came forward now. “Well,” he said, slowly, “has it been very hard to have faith--these last five days?” It was not precisely the tone he had meant to adopt; but one must begin. Eve turned at his words. Her eyes were brimming with life, her cheeks still touched to a deep, soft color by the keenness of the wintry air. “No,” she answered, with a shy, responsive touch of confidence. “I seemed to keep on believing. You know converts make the best devotees.” She laughed with slight embarrassment, and glanced up at him. Something in the blue of her eyes reminded him unexpectedly of spring skies--full of youth and promise. He moved abruptly, and crossed the room towards the window. “Eve,” he said, without looking round, “I want your help.” He heard the faint rustling of her dress as she turned towards him, and he knew that he had struck the right chord. All true women respond to an appeal for aid as steel answers to the magnet. He could feel her expectancy in the silence. “You know--we all know--that the present moment is very vital. That it's impossible to deny the crisis in the air. Nobody feels it more than I do--nobody is more exorbitantly keen to have a share--a part, when the real fight comes--” He stopped; then he turned slowly and their eyes met. “If a man is to succeed in such a desire,” he went on, deliberately, “he must exclude all others--he must have one purpose, one interest, one thought. He must forget that--” Eve lifted her head quickly. “--that he has a wife,” she finished, gently. “I think I understand.”