ied, as he brought
his fist down on the arm of his chair. "That man I love as I love
nothing else in this world--wife--baby--nothing! I'll go under, but I'll
never let him see me crawl. I'll be Garry Minott to him as long as I
breathe. The same man he trusted,--the same man he loved,--for he does
love me, and always did!" He hesitated and his voice broke, as if a sob
clogged it. After a moment's struggle he went on: "I was a damned fool
to leave him or I wouldn't be where I am. 'Garry,' he said to me that
last day when he took me into his office and shut the door,--'Garry,
stay on here a while longer; wait till next year. If it's more pay you
want, fix it to suit yourself. I've got two boys coming along; they'll
both be through the Beaux Arts in a year or so. I'm getting on and I'm
getting tired. Stay on and go in with them.' And what did I do? Well,
what's the use of talking?--you know it all."

Jack moved his chair and put his arm over his shoulder as a woman would
have done. He had caught the break in his voice and knew how manfully he
was struggling to keep up.

"Garry, old man."

"Yes, Jack."

"If Mr. Morris thought that way, then, why won't he help you now? What's
ten thousand to him?"

"Nothing,--not a drop in the bucket! He'd begin drawing the check before
I'd finished telling him what I wanted it for. I'm in a hole and don't
know which way to turn, but when I think of what he's done for me I'll
rot in hell before I'll take his money." Again his voice had the old
ring.

"But, Garry," insisted Jack, "if I can see Morris in the morning and lay
the whole matter before him--"

"You'll do nothing of the kind, do you hear!--keep still--somebody's
coming downstairs. Not a word if it is Corinne. She is carrying now all
she can stand up under."

He passed his hand across his face with a quick movement and brushed the
tears from his cheeks.

"Remember, not a word. I haven't told her everything. I tried to, but I
couldn't."

"Tell her now, Garry," cried Jack. "Now--to-night," his voice rising on
the last word. "Before you close your eyes. You never needed her help as
you do now."

"I can't--it would break her heart. Keep still!--that's her step."

Corinne entered the room slowly and walked to Garry's chair.

"Baby's asleep now," she said in a subdued voice, "and I'm going to take
you to bed. You won't mind, Jack, will you? Come, dear," and she slipped
her hand under his arm to lift him from his chair.