“I suppose half confidences won’t do,” he said at last. “I still love Gloria; what man once having loved her could forget? ‘Time cannot change nor custom stale her infinite variety’; but of what use to fight one’s destiny—in another incarnation, perhaps. I cannot believe all that you say of George. That he is a Mahatma is doubtless true, that he loves Gloria is gruesomely natural, that he hates me and has put upon me this mind-born malady is reasonable, but that he should possess, or even aspire to possess, Gloria is incredible.” There was a sadness on his face, another worldness in his eyes, but there was no light of battle there, and Ruth, whose youth and energy cried out for action, felt as if she were beating with futile hands against a stone wall. “But he does want her, and he’s going to succeed if you don’t do something. If he has the power to kill you, he has the power to do these other things too. Even if you don’t believe this, you must do something to save your own life.” “I’m afraid I’m not very keen about living; if I die now it is an easy way out—” She wanted to protest that if he had courage he might yet win Gloria again, but she did not dare raise hopes that might never be fulfilled. Even if Gloria were saved from the Prince who could tell that she might not marry Terry? “That’s weak, and cowardly,” she said, “and if you believe in the wisdom of the East you know that in the next life you will not enjoy the fruit of any joy for which you have not struggled in this. You are selfish, too. Even if you no longer care for your own life, you must do what you can to help Gloria.” “She no longer wants anything from me; she would only resent my interference.” “You are thinking only of yourself—what difference can her attitude make now? Promise me that you will do something—promise—” “Perhaps the voice of youth is the voice to follow—I am afraid I have grown old and age does not love knighthood, but I promise that if I see any way in which to change her destiny and mine, I will make what effort I can. I will think about it.” It was almost dark now, and Gloria was standing beside them before they saw her. “Angela’s been looking for you; she wants you to play billiards, Ruth.” “But I don’t know how.” “That doesn’t make any difference; neither do I and neither does Miss Gilchrist; you just stand around and make the men wish that you’d go away and let them have a good game—but don’t go just yet,” as Ruth started away. “I want to say something to Professor Pendragon and I don’t want to be alone with him.” Ruth could not see his face very clearly, but she saw his long white hands clenching over the arms of his chair. “I thought, of course, when we met this morning, that you would find some excuse for going away on the next train, Percy.”