His return to public life would now be too late to help to avert disaster, he must just stand aside in these last weeks of the session and see the shipwreck.

An unspeakable bitterness invaded his spirit.

The moon was rising when he got outside, one day beyond its full.

It seemed like a golden ball in the twilight of opal tints, before it should rise in its silver majesty to supreme command of the night.
Nature was in one of her most sensuously divine moods.

The summer and fulfillment had come.
John Derringham sat down in a comfortable chair and gazed in front of him.
There had been moonlight, too, when he had spent those exquisite hours with his love, now six weeks ago--a young half moon.