That letter had a grave effect upon him. So much so that he forgot time, he forgot that he had yet to go out and seek food at some ham-and-beef shop, and that he was hungry. The final paragraph of the letter perhaps affected him most of all, and gave him an unease of heart which none of the rest could have done. It was a paragraph which opened up for his scrutiny the depths of a woman's soul in the first great rush of a passionate love. He had read this with deep emotion, and a great sympathy. And as he read it he felt something of the wrong which, through him and his efforts, was being inflicted upon the woman whom it was his paternal right to cherish and protect. Then, in the last lines of this outpouring, he received the final blow which brought him a realization. It was an example of the wonderful magnanimity and self-sacrifice of a woman's love. It was the renunciation of all her hopes and yearnings in the interests of the man upon whom she had bestowed the wealth and treasure of her woman's heart. He mechanically folded up the letter and returned it to an inner pocket. He rose with a sigh, and gazed about him uncertainly. The meaning of his sordid surroundings passed him by. His thoughts were on so many other things which filled his active faculties, leaving no room for the consideration of his own comforts. He even forgot that he had not eaten since noon. He extracted a sheet of paper from a small locked hand-grip, and set about writing a brief message--a message such as he had been asked for. He enclosed it in an envelope and addressed it to Redwithy Farm in Buckinghamshire. He had just completed his task when the stairs outside his door creaked under a heavy footfall. The next moment there was a knock at his door. Two minutes later Ruxton Farlow, clad in workman's clothes, occupied the protesting wicker-chair, while Prince von Hertzwohl contented himself with a seat upon the unyielding bed. The oil lamp shone dully upon the table and threw into dim relief two faces, whose strength and suggestion of mentality suited ill the quality of the clothes which covered the bodies beneath them. To Von Hertzwohl it was as though some miracle of a none too pleasant nature had been performed. In view of his letter from Vita, Ruxton Farlow was the last person he desired to see. On the other hand, he had been waiting anxiously to hear from him, or see him on the subject of the happenings at the yards, of which the whole town of Dorby had become aware. Ruxton had his own purpose in view, but the Prince gave him no opportunity of developing it at the first excitement of the meeting.