But he had used that argument with himself before. As he sat, pictures began to form of Ocky as he had been. He saw him about Peter's age, the weakly schoolboy whose battles he had had to fight because he was strong. He recalled that term when he had had to take him to the doctor with his poisoned hand. He remembered how Ocky's mother had always said of him that he was the most careful and dearest son in the world---- No, he hadn't been always bad. His thoughts became unbearable; he needed approval for his act. Stepping out on to the landing he called, “Nan, Nan.” When she came he was again seated in his chair. The lights were out and a log of ship's wood, spluttering on the coals, burnt violet and yellow, making the shadows wag accusing fingers. She curled herself up on the floor, leaning her head against his knees, like a small child at the story hour, before it goes to bed. Nan always brought an atmosphere of kindness with her--of innocence and goodness. Her ways were those of a young girl, who walks on tiptoe with hands upon her breast, listening for life to call her. Barrington watched her shining head and how the fire glinted against the column of her throat. If Ocky had had a wife like Nan------- It was some time before she spoke. Then, “Dearest?” “I had to be a brute and I hate myself. I kicked him out.” “Do you think you did right?” “If I didn't, I shouldn't have done it. The thing had to end.” “And what next?” “We've got to think of Jehane and her children. I'm wondering how much she knows or suspects.” “She'll never tell---- I wonder will she stand by him?” There was silence. Barrington spoke. “Ocky hinted at something to-night. It might be true--something that I never thought about. It explains those letters of Jehane's. It explains why they've never got on together. I've always said that a little love would have made Ocky a better man.” “Dear, what was it?” “It dates a long way back. He said that Jehane had made our home and my love for you the standard of what she expected from----” “I understand. And it _is_ true, Billy. She wanted a man like you from the first.” Silence. Nan said, “Once she used to talk about the penal servitude of spinsterhood.” “And now,” said Barrington, “she'll have to learn about the penal servitude of marriage. Whatever happens, unless he ill-treats her, he'll be her husband to the end.” “But---- But can't we stop this dreadful something?” Barrington stooped and took her hand. “Little woman, we've been trying to stop it all these years. We can't stop it; we can only postpone it and give him more time to drag Jehane and the children lower down. We've reached the point where things have got to be at their worst before they can grow better. It's a question now of how many of them we can rescue. Ocky has to be allowed to sink for the sake of the rest.”