The last words were hardly heard.  This time, despite himself, De Gollyer was tremendously affected.

“Superb!  By George, that’s grit!”

Lightbody raised his head with the fatigue of the struggle and the pride of the victory written on it.

“Her happiness first,” he said simply.

The accent with which it was spoken almost convinced De Gollyer.

“By Jove, you adore her!”

“I adore her,” said Lightbody, lifting himself to his feet.  This time it came not as an explosion, but as a breath, some deep echo from the soul.  He stood steadily gazing at his friend.  “You’re right, Jim.  You’re right.  It’s not our class.  I’ll face it down.  There’ll be no scandal.  No one shall know.”

Their hands met with an instinctive motion.  Then, touched by the fervor of his friend’s admiration, Lightbody moved wearily away, saying dully, all in a breath: 

“Like a thunderclap, Jim.”

“I know, dear old boy,” said De Gollyer, feeling sharply vulnerable in the eyes and throat.

“It’s terrible—­it’s awful.  All in a second!  Everything turned upside down, everything smashed!”

“You must go away,” said De Gollyer anxiously.

“My whole life wrecked,” continued Lightbody, without hearing him, “nothing left—­not the slightest, meanest thing left!”

“Dear boy, you must go away.”

“Only last night she was sitting here, and I there, reading a book.”  He stopped and put forth his hand.  “This book!”

“Jack, you must go away for a while.”

“What?”

“Go away!”

“Oh, yes, yes.  I suppose so.  I don’t care.”

Leaning against the desk, he gazed down at the rug, mentally and physically inert.

De Gollyer, returning to his nature, said presently:  “I say, dear old fellow, it’s awfully delicate, but I should like to be frank, from the shoulder—­out and out, do you mind?”

“What?  No.”

Seeing that Lightbody had only half listened, De Gollyer spoke with some hesitation: 

“Of course it’s devilish impudent.  I’ll offend you dreadfully.  But, I say, now as a matter of fact, were you really so—­so seraphically happy?”

“What’s that?”

“As a matter of fact,” said De Gollyer changing his note instantly, “you were happy, terrifically happy, always happy, weren’t you?”

Lightbody was indignant.

“Oh, how can you, at such a moment?”

The new emotion gave him back his physical elasticity.  He began to pace up and down, declaiming at his friend, “I was happy, ideally happy.  I never had a thought, not one, for anything else.  I gave her everything.  I did everything she wanted.  There never was a word between us.  It was ideal”

De Gollyer, somewhat shamefaced, avoiding his angry glance, said hastily: 

“So, so, I was quite wrong.  I beg your pardon.”