"He did not say what threatened you; he is a good friend for a man to have.

But we soon found out what you were--a man well born, well bred, full of brilliant possibility, who was slowly becoming an idle, cynical, self-centered egoist--a man who, lacking the lash of need or the spur of ambition, was degenerating through the sheer uselessness and inanity of his life.

And, oh, the pity of it! For Mr.Keen and I have taken a--a curiously personal interest in you--in your case.

I say, the pity of it!" Astounded, dumb under her stinging words, he rode beside her through the brilliant sunshine, wheeled mechanically as she turned her horse, and rode north again.
"And now--_now_!" she said passionately, "you turn on the woman you loved! Oh, you are not worth it!" "You are quite right," he said, turning very white under her scorn.
"Almost all you have said is true enough, I fancy.

I amount to nothing; I am idle, cynical, selfish.