Falder.  When I went there—­they were at supper—­my sister wanted to give me a kiss—­I know.  But he just looked at her, and said:  “What have you come for?” Well, I pocketed my pride and I said:  “Aren’t you going to give me your hand, Jim?  Cis is, I know,” I said.  “Look here!” he said, “that’s all very well, but we’d better come to an understanding.  I’ve been expecting you, and I’ve made up my mind.  I’ll give you fifteen pounds to go to Canada with.”  “I see,” I said—­“good riddance!  No, thanks; keep your fifteen pounds.”  Friendship’s a queer thing when you’ve been where I have.

Cokeson.  I understand.  Will you take the fifteen pound from me? [Flustered, as Falder regards him with a queer smile] Quite without prejudice; I meant it kindly.

Falder.  I’m not allowed to leave the country.

Cokeson.  Oh! ye...es—­ticket-of-leave?  You aren’t looking the thing.

Falder.  I’ve slept in the Park three nights this week.  The dawns aren’t all poetry there.  But meeting her—­I feel a different man this morning.  I’ve often thought the being fond of hers the best thing about me; it’s sacred, somehow—­and yet it did for me.  That’s queer, isn’t it?

Cokeson.  I’m sure we’re all very sorry for you.

Falder.  That’s what I’ve found, Mr. Cokeson.  Awfully sorry for me. [With quiet bitterness] But it doesn’t do to associate with criminals!

Cokeson.  Come, come, it’s no use calling yourself names.  That never did a man any good.  Put a face on it.

Falder.  It’s easy enough to put a face on it, sir, when you’re independent.  Try it when you’re down like me.  They talk about giving you your deserts.  Well, I think I’ve had just a bit over.

Cokeson. [Eyeing him askance over his spectacles] I hope they haven’t made a Socialist of you.

     Falder is suddenly still, as if brooding over his past self; he
     utters a peculiar laugh.

Cokeson.  You must give them credit for the best intentions.  Really you must.  Nobody wishes you harm, I’m sure.

Falder.  I believe that, Mr. Cokeson.  Nobody wishes you harm, but they down you all the same.  This feeling—­[He stares round him, as though at something closing in] It’s crushing me. [With sudden impersonality] I know it is.

Cokeson. [Horribly disturbed] There’s nothing there!  We must try and take it quiet.  I’m sure I’ve often had you in my prayers.  Now leave it to me.  I’ll use my gumption and take ’em when they’re jolly. [As he speaks the two partners come in]

Cokeson [Rather disconcerted, but trying to put them all at ease] I didn’t expect you quite so soon.  I’ve just been having a talk with this young man.  I think you’ll remember him.

James. [With a grave, keen look] Quite well.  How are you, Falder?