ath breaks the link that binds
people----"

"For God's sake don't say that!"

"But it _is_ so, isn't it?"

"Heaven knows! Certainly the letter she left behind--the letter to
Rosa---- Poor child, she was such a creature of joy--so bright, so
brilliant! And then to think of her---- I was much to blame--I came
between you. But if I had once realized----"

Drake stopped, and the men fixed their eyes on each other for a moment,
and then turned their heads away.

"I'm afraid I've done you a great injustice, sir," said Storm.

"Me?"

"I thought she was only your toy, your plaything. But perhaps" (his voice
was breaking)--"perhaps you loved her too."

Drake answered, almost inaudibly, "With all my heart and soul!"

"Then--then we have _both_ lost her!"

"Both!"

There was silence for a moment. The hands of the two men met and clasped
and parted.

"I must go," said Storm, and he moved across the room with a look of
utter weariness.

"But where are you going to?"

"I don't know--anywhere--nowhere--it doesn't matter now."

"Well----"

"Good-night!"

"Good-night!"

Drake stood at the door below until the slow, uncertain footsteps had
turned the corner of the street and died away.

John Storm was sure now. Overwhelmed by his own disgrace, ashamed of his
downfall, and perhaps with a sense of her own share in it, Glory had
destroyed herself.

Strange contradiction! Much as he had hated Glory's way of life, there
came to him at the moment a deep remorse at the thought that he had been
the means of putting an end to it. And then her gay and happy spirit
clouded by his own disasters! Her good name stained by association with
his evil one! Her pure soul imperilled by his sin and fall!

But it was now very late and he began to ask himself where he was to
sleep. At first he thought of his old quarters under the church, and then
he told himself that Brother Andrew would be gone by this time, and that
everything connected with the parish must be transferred to other
keeping. Going by a hotel in Trafalgar Square he stepped in and asked for
a bed.

"Certainly, sir," said the clerk, who was polite and deferential.

"Can I have something to eat, too?"

"Coffee-room to the left, sir. Luggage coming, sir?"

"I have no luggage to-night," he answered, and then he saw that the clerk
looked at him doubtfully.

The coffee-room was empty and only half lit up, for dinner was long over
and the business of the day was do