But even with his conscience up in arms, he welcomed his surrender.

Besides, rebellion, as he knew of old, was utterly futile.

He must let the thing run its course.
The thought of flight from a peril of sweetness he banished instantly.
To run away was to deny himself the fullness of life men said he needed as an artist.

It was unthinkable.

Nay, it was unscrupulous, for the greatness of his gift Kenny regarded as an obligation.