en I can hardly bear to
think of Hambleby for fear he shouldn't be all right. It's almost as if
he came too easily."

"He couldn't. All my best things come," said Nicky "--like _that_!"

A furious sweep of Nicky's arm simulated the onrush of his inspiration.

"Oh, Nicky, how splendid it must be to be so certain."

"It is," said Nicky solemnly.

After all, it argued some divine compensation somewhere that a thing so
destitute should remain unaware of its destitution, that a creature so
futile and diminutive should be sustained by this conviction of his
greatness. For he _was_ certain. Nothing could annihilate the illusion
by which Nicky lived. But it was enough to destroy all certainty in
anybody else, and there were moments when the presence of Nicky had this
shattering effect on Jane. She could not have faced him until Hambleby
was beyond his power to slay.

But Nicky, so far from enlarging on his certainty, meditated with his
eyes fixed on the clock.

"You don't dine, do you," he said suddenly, "till half-past seven?"

"You'll stay, won't you?"

"I think I mustn't, thanks. I only wanted to know how long I had."

"You've really half-an-hour, if you _won't_ dine."

"I say, you're not expecting anybody else?"

"I didn't expect Mr. Brodrick. I've kept everybody out so long that
they've left off coming."

"I wonder," said he, still meditating, "if _I_'ve come too soon."

She held her breath. Nicky's voice was charged with a curious emotion.

"I knew," he went on, "it wasn't any use my coming as long as you were
immersed. I wouldn't for worlds do anything that could possibly injure
your career."

"Oh--my career----"

"The question is," he meditated, "would it?"

"Your coming, Nicky?"

"My not keeping away. I suppose I ought to be content to stand aside and
watch it, your genius, when it's so tremendous. I've no right to get in
its way----"

"You don't--you don't."

"I wouldn't. I always should be standing aside and watching. That," said
Nicky, "would be, you see, my attitude."

"Dear Nicky," she murmured, "it's a beautiful attitude. It
couldn't--your attitude--be anything but beautiful."

"Only, of course," he added, "I'd be there."

"But you are. You are there. And it's delightful to have you."

His face, which had turned very white, flushed, but not with pleasure.
It quivered with some sombre and sultry wave of pain.

"I meant," he said, "if I were always there."

His eyes searched her.