e back again. She'd never fret. Above all, she'd
never dream of coming to look for me."

The passionate utterance went into a sound that resembled a laugh, but it
was a sound of such bitterness that Crowther was strongly moved.

He put his hand on Piers' shoulder and gave it an admonitory shake. "My
dear lad, don't be a fool!" he said, with slow force. "You're consuming
your own happiness--and hers too. You can't measure a woman's feelings
like that. They are immeasurable. You can't even begin to fathom a
woman's restraint--a woman's reserve. How can she offer when you are
always demanding? As to her love, it is probably as infinitely great, as
infinitely deep, as infinitely selfless, as yours is passionate, and
fierce and insatiable. There are big possibilities in you, Piers; but
you're not letting 'em grow. It would have done you good to have been
kept waiting ten years or more. You're spoilt; that's what's the matter
with you. You got your heart's desire too easily. You think this world is
your own damn playground. And it isn't. Understand? You're put here to
work, not play; to develop yourself, not batten on other people. You won
her like a man in the face of desperate odds. You paid a heavy price for
her. But even so, you don't deserve to keep her if you forget that she
has paid too. By Heaven, Piers, she must have loved you a mighty lot to
have done it!"

He paused, for Piers had made a sharp, involuntary movement as of a man
in intolerable pain. He almost wrenched himself from Crowther's hand, and
walked to the low wall of the terrace. Here he stood for many seconds
quite motionless, gazing down over the quiet garden.

Finally he swung round, and looked at Crowther. "Yes," he said, in an odd
tone as of one repeating something learned by heart. "I've got to
remember that, haven't I? Thanks for--reminding me!" He stopped, seemed
to collect himself, moved slowly forward. "You're a good chap, Crowther,"
he said. "I wonder you've never got married yourself, what?"

Crowther waited for him quietly, in his eyes that look of the man who has
gazed for long over the wide spaces of the earth.

"I never married, sonny," he said, "because I had nothing to offer to the
woman I cared for, and so--she never knew."

"By gad, old chap, I'm sorry," said Piers impulsively.

Crowther held out a steady hand. "I'm happy enough," he said simply.
"I've got--all I want."

"All?" echoed Piers incredulously.

Crowther was smiling