as practically
useless. He had been drinking, and, as he felt for the string of his
eye-glass, his fingers caught another thin black cord which protruded
slightly from his vest. He drew it out by mistake, and a small gold
cross shone for a moment against the faded black coat. His fingers
felt for it to lift it to his eye as though it were his eye-glass, but
dropped it suddenly. He turned pale for a minute, then caught it as
suddenly again, and thrust it into his waistcoat. But Vic had seen, and
she had very calm, intelligent eyes, and a vast deal of common sense,
though she had only come from out Tibbooburra way. She kept her eyes on
him kindly, knowing that he would speak in time. They were alone, for
most of the people of Wadgery were away at a picnic. There is always
one moment when a man who has a secret, good or bad, fatal or otherwise,
feels that he must tell it or die. And Mr. Jones told Vic, and she
said what she could, though she knew that a grasp of her firm hands was
better than any words; and she was equally sure in her own mind that
word and grasp would be of no avail in the end.

She saw that the beginning of the end had come as she looked at him
staring at the ledger, yet exactly why she could not tell. She knew that
he had been making a fight since he had been book-keeper, and that
now he felt that he had lost. She guessed also that he had heard what
O'Fallen said to her, and what she had replied.

"You ought not to have offended him," she tried to say severely.

"It had to come," he said with a dry, crackling laugh, and he fastened
his eye-glass in his eye. "I wasn't made for this. I could only do one
thing, and--" He laughed that peculiar laugh again, got down from the
stool, and held out his hand to her.

"What do you intend?" she said. "I'm going, of course. Good-bye!" "But
not at once?" she said very kindly.

"Perhaps not just at once," he answered with a strange smile.

She did not know what to say or do; there are puzzling moments even for
a wise woman, and there is nothing wiser than that.

He turned at the door. "God bless you!" he said. Then, as if caught in
an act to be atoned for, he hurried out into the street. From the door
she watched him till the curtains of dust rose up about him and hid him
from sight. When he came back to Wadgery months after he was a terrible
wreck; so much so that Vic could hardly look at him at first; and she
wished that she had left O'Fallen's as she threate