All the character which he had in those untried days bade him harden himself against the appeal.
But his resolution was melting like metal in a furnace.

He tried to realise the truth which Hardiman had uttered three or four hours before.
There would be sooner or later a quarrel, a humiliating, hateful quarrel over some miserable trifle which neither Stella nor he would ever afterwards forgive.

But her voice was breaking with a sob in a whisper at his ear and how could he look forward so far?
"Stella!" He turned impulsively towards her.
"The game's up," reflected Sir Charles Hardiman at the end of the table.
"Calypso wins--no, by God!" For before Luttrell could speak another word, the music crashed and all that assemblage was on its feet.

The orchestra was playing the Swedish National Anthem; and upon that, one after the other, followed the hymns of the peoples who had taken part in the Games.

In turn the representatives of each people stood and resumed their seat, the music underlining their individuality and parking them in sections, even as rivalry had parked them in the Stadium.