He would take a tiny house for her somewhere--one of those very old-fashioned ones shut in with a garden still left in Chelsea, near the Embankment--and there he would spend every moment of his spare time, and try to make up to her for her isolation.

Well arranged, the world need not know of this--Halcyone would never be _exigeante_--or if it did develop a suspicion, ministers before his day had been known to have had--_cheres amies_.
But as this thought came he jumped from his chair.

It was, when faced in a concrete fashion, hideously unpalatable as touching his pure, fair star.
"You are rather restless to-day, John," the Professor said, as his old pupil went hastily towards the open window and looked out.
"Yes," said John Derringham.

"It is going to rain, and I must go to Bristol this afternoon.

I have to see a man on business." Cheiron's left penthouse went up into his forehead.
"Matters complicating ?" was all he said.
"Yes, the very devil," responded John Derringham.
"Beginning to feel the noose already, poor lad ?" "Er--no, not exactly," and he turned round.