Derrick's pale face flushed. "There are reasons why I can't marry any woman, Sidcup," he said. "No, I can't tell you them, but you can take it from me that they exist. No, I'm not married already," he added, with a grim smile, as he saw the question in Sidcup's eyes. "The fact is, I'm an outcast and a pariah. Sounds melodramatic, doesn't it? But it's the truth. And you can tell Isabel so, if you like." Sidcup laughed bitterly. "Do you think that would make any difference to her?" he retorted. "You don't know much about women----" "I don't!" interjected Derrick. "----If you think that would put her off. It would make her more gone on you than ever. She's that sort. And if you don't, or can't, marry her, what are you going to do?" "The Lord knows," groaned Derrick, desperately. "Look here, Green, you're a gentleman," said Sidcup. "Am I? Thank you. But I'm not so sure. I don't know that I've any claim to the title." "You're a gentleman, right enough; we all know that," said Sidcup. "But you haven't traded on it, I'll say that for you. And there's only one thing for a man to do who is a gentleman----" "And that is?" asked Derrick. "To cut and run; to clear out," replied Sidcup. "Oh, don't make any mistake! If you stay on with the company, things between you and Isabel will grow from bad to worse." "I tell you that it's your fancy, that you exaggerate----" "She's one of the most beautiful women God ever made," said Sidcup, ignoring Derrick's remonstrance, "and no man could resist for long such a woman, especially when she's gone on him, as Isabel is on you. Yes, there's only one thing for you to do, and that is to clear out as soon as you're able. And if you're the straight man I think you, you'll do it, for her sake--I won't say for mine." Derrick rose painfully on his elbow. "By Heaven, Sidcup," he said, in the stifled voice of a man who is deeply moved, "you're a good chap; and, if I go, it will be for _your_ sake. I'd rather cut this hand off than come between a man and the girl he loves." "Yes, and there's another reason," said Sidcup, with a shake of the head. "Isabel's not the only one; there's Alice." Derrick's eyes shone angrily now. "Oh, go to blazes!" he said. "You're out of your mind; you'll be telling me that all the blessed women in the company----" "Well, we'll let her go," said Sidcup, "though it's the truth. What are you going to do?" Derrick lay still for a moment or two; then he heaved a sigh. He had found an occupation which, if it did not exactly suit him, provided him with a living, and it was hard to be compelled to surrender it. It seemed to him that he was doomed to be a wanderer, a fugitive; he had flown from man's judgment; now he was told that he must fly from a woman's love. "I suppose I'll have to go," he said. "I can't stay and make trouble between you and the woman who has been so good to me. God bless her!" At this Sidcup took Derrick's hand and pressed it.