In the vexation of seeing people he knew on the train, Hallam's first thought had been to leave it at a convenient stopping place and wait for the next train and so resume his journey; but on reflection this idea seemed a little absurd. Of what interest could his movements possibly be to the Garfields? They would leave the train in all probability long before he did, and the greatest inconvenience their presence would cause him would be an occasional and brief encounter. The first encounter occurred very speedily: Mr Garfield came to his compartment and stood in the corridor and inquired after his wife. He expressed much sympathy with Hallam. "We were shocked," he said, "when we heard. My wife called at the nursing-home, but she wasn't allowed to see Mrs Hallam. I trust she is doing well?" "The doctor tells me so," Hallam answered, with what the other man considered a curious lack of feeling. "She is too ill at present to see any one." The talk hung for a while. Mr Garfield, who never felt at his ease with Hallam, was none the less profoundly sorry for the man. He believed that the callous manner was assumed to cloak his real feelings. The haggard face and sombre eyes betokened considerable mental anguish. "It is rather an awkward time for you to have to get away," he ventured. "It is." Hallam's tone became more constrained. He moved restlessly, and looked beyond the speaker out at the changing scenery. "But at least I can't help by remaining," he added. Abruptly he brought his gaze back again and looked steadily into the other's eyes with an expression that was faintly apologetic. "I haven't recovered from the shock yet," he said. "I'm worried." Garfield nodded sympathetically. "My dear fellow, of course. It's not surprising that you should be. If we can do anything, let us know. And if you want a chat come along to our compartment; we're only next door. I'm taking the wife to the Falls. It's her first visit. I expect we'll put in about a couple of weeks there. Do you go as far?" "I'm going farther," Hallam answered briefly. But, although Garfield looked inquiry, he did not give him any more definite information in regard to his destination. Hallam had started on his journey with no thought of deserting his wife and leaving his home for ever: he had come away simply because he felt the imperative necessity for change and solitude. The man's mind was dark with despair. This feeling of despair deepened with every passing hour. Fear held him in its grip. He mistrusted himself. The horror of what had happened haunted him night and day; he could not sleep for thinking of it. Always before his mind's eye was the picture of his wife--falling--falling headlong--striking the ground with a thud--lying still and white at the foot of the stairs, with the dark stain under her head slowly spreading on the darker wood of the floor...