But it's not to be trusted, and I don't know what happens to it after a year's storage." For a while they discussed the commercial possibilities of Chaosite, and how capital might be raised for a stock company; but Selwyn was not sanguine, and something of his mental depression returned as he sat there by the curtainless window, his head on his closed hand, looking out into the sunny street.
"Anyway," said Lansing, "you've nothing to worry over." "No, nothing," assented Selwyn listlessly.
After a silence Lansing added: "But you do a lot of worrying all the same, Phil." Selwyn flushed up and denied it.
"Yes, you do! I don't believe you realise how much of the time you are out of spirits." "Does it impress you that way ?" asked Selwyn, mortified; "because I'm really all right." "Of course you are, Phil; I know it, but you don't seem to realise it.
You're morbid, I'm afraid." "You've been talking to my sister!" "What of it?
Besides, I knew there was something the matter--" "You know what it is, too.

And isn't it enough to subdue a man's spirits occasionally ?" "No," said Lansing--"if you mean your--mistake--two years ago.

That isn't enough to spoil life for a man.

I've wanted to tell you so for a long time." And, as Selwyn said nothing: "For Heaven's sake make up your mind to enjoy your life! You are fitted to enjoy it.

Get that absurd notion out of your head that you're done for--that you've no home life in prospect, no family life, no children--" Selwyn turned sharply, but the other went on: "You can swear at me if you like, but you've no business to go through the world cuddling your own troubles closer and closer and squinting at everybody out of disenchanted eyes.