"Do not pity me! It doesn't matter now. I only wanted to--settle with
Boswell. I've been in town--three days."

They were nearing the big apartment house; lights from the windows were
showing cheerily through the misty fog. A chill fear shook Priscilla as
she began to comprehend the meaning of Farwell's words. In her life
Boswell, and this man beside her, stood for friendship in its truest,
highest sense, and she felt that she must hold them together in spite of
everything. She stood still and gripped Farwell's arm.

"You--you shall not go to him," she whispered, "until you tell me--how
you are to pay him--for what he has done!"

Farwell's white, grim face confronted her.

"How does one pay another for lying to him, cheating him, and--and
playing with him as though he were an idiot or a child?"

"Why did he do it, Master Farwell, why did he do it?"

"Because----" But for very shame Farwell hesitated. "It makes no
difference," he muttered. "I'm no fool and Boswell shall find it out."

"He has told me--the story." Priscilla still stayed the straining figure.
"All his life he has given and given to you all that was in his power to
give. He is the noblest man I ever knew, the gentlest and kindest, and I
never knew a man could love another as he has loved you. What have you
given to him--really? The smiles and jokes of the days long ago that were
heavenly to him--what did they cost you? He gave, and gave his heart's