man's love-affair is usually wearying; and, besides
that, the glimpse which I had caught of Marjorie Vaughan made me think
that she was worthy of a bigger fish than Swain would ever be. He was
right in saying that there were thousands of men who had more to give
her, and who would be eager to give.

I examined Swain, as he sat there staring at nothing, with eyes not
wholly friendly. He was handsome enough, but in a stereotyped way. And
he was only an insignificant clerk, with small prospect of ever being
anything much better, for he had started the battle of life too late.
Honest, of course, honourable, clean-hearted, but commonplace, with a
depth of soul easily fathomed. I know now that I was unjust to Swain,
but, at the moment, my scrutiny of him left me strangely depressed.

A rattle of wheels on the drive brought us both out of our thoughts.
It was Hargis returning with the ladders. I had him hang them up
against the shed where he kept his gardening implements, for I did not
wish him to suspect the invasion we had planned; then, just to kill
time and get away from Swain, I spent an hour with Hargis in his
garden; and finally came the summons to dinner. An hour later, as we
sat on the front porch smoking, and still finding little or nothing to
say, Mrs. Hargis came out to bid us good-night.

"Mr. Swain can use the bedroom next to yours, Mr. Lester," she said.

"Perhaps he won't stay all night," I said. "If he does, I'll show him
the way to it. And thank you very much, Mrs. Hargis."

"Is there anything else I can do, sir?"

"No, thank you."

"Mr. Godfrey will be here a little before midnight--at least, that's
his usual time."

"We'll wait up for him," I said. "Good night, Mrs. Hargis."

"Good night, sir," and she went back into the house.

I have never passed through a longer or more trying hour than the next
one was, and I could tell by the way Swain twitched about in his chair
that he felt the tedium as much as I. Once or twice I tried to start a
conversation, but it soon trickled dry; and we ended by smoking away
moodily and staring out into the darkness.

At last Swain sprang to his feet.

"I can't stand this any longer," he said. "I'm going over the wall."

I struck a match and looked at my watch.

"It isn't eleven o'clock yet," I warned him.

"I don't care. Perhaps she'll be ahead of time. Anyway, I might as
well wait there as here."

"Come on, then," I agreed, for I felt myself that another s