curious sense of loneliness fell upon him, a loneliness altogether at
variance with the loneliness of the veldt. He could not have defined
wherein the difference lay, yet he was well aware that there was a
difference. It was one of those subtle differences, exceedingly apparent
to the inner consciousness, yet entirely impossible to translate into
terms of speech. The nearest approach he could get to anything like a
definition of it, was that it was less big, but more definitely poignant.
Beyond that he did not, or could not, go. For some five minutes or so he
leant at the little casement window, gazing at the gold of the buttercups
seen through a blurred mist of rain. Then he pulled the window to, and
came down into the parlour.

The hands of the grandfather's clock pointed to ten minutes to five.
Antony, remembering the box of wood in the scullery, bethought himself of
a cup of tea. His bag contained all the requirements. Long practice had
taught him to provide himself with necessities, and also, on occasions,
to substitute lemon for milk, as a complement to tea.

He was just about to go and fetch a handful of sticks, preparatory to
lighting a fire, when he heard the click of his garden gate. Turning, and
looking through the window, he saw a big man coming up the path.

CHAPTER XI

DOUBTS

Doctor Hilary was returning from his rounds. His state of mind was nearly
as grey as the atmosphere.

It is one thing to agree to a mad-brained scheme in the first amused
interest of its propounding, even to mould it further, and bring it into
shape. It is quite another to be actually confronted with the finished
scheme, to realize that, though you may not be its veritable parent, you
have at all events foster-fathered it quite considerably, and that,
moreover, you cannot now, in conscience, cast off responsibility in its
behalf.

The fact that you had excellent reasons for adopting the scheme in the
first place, will doubtless be of comfort to your soul, but that
particular species of comfort and ordinary everyday common sense are not
always as closely united as you might desire. In fact they are
occasionally apt to pull in entirely opposite directions, a method of
procedure which is far from consoling.

Doctor Hilary found it far from consoling.

Conscience told him quite plainly that his real and innermost reason for
foster-fathering the scheme was simply and solely for the sake of
snatching at any mortal thing