He was unable to go on. He sank into a chair, covering his face with his
hands.

"For God's sake, stick to the joy!" I exclaimed.

He rose to his feet again. "Well," he said, "it was for your sake that I
parted with my self-respect; with your assistance I recover it."

"How for my sake?"

"For whom but you would I have gone as far as I did? For what other
purpose than that of keeping our friendship whole would I have borne you
company into this narrow pass? A man whom I cared for less I would long
since have parted with. You were needed--you and something you have
about you that always takes me so--to bring me to this. You ennobled,
exalted, enchanted the struggle. I _did_ value my prospect of coming
into Mr. Sloane's property. I valued it for my poor sister's sake as
well as for my own, so long as it was the natural reward of
conscientious service, and not the prize of hypocrisy and cunning. With
another man than you I never would have contested such a prize. But you
fascinated me, even as my rival. You played with me, deceived me,
betrayed me. I held my ground, hoping you would see that what you were
doing was not fair. But if you have seen it, it has made no difference
with you. For Mr. Sloane, from the moment that, under your magical
influence, he revealed his nasty little nature, I had nothing but
contempt."

"And for me now?"