But he had proved himself incompetent, unadaptable, a stick, a pedantic incapable.

A dozen stings rankled in his soul.

Alice would be justified of her suspicions.

Where would his place be now in that small imperious heart?
His own people had forsaken him for a gross and unlikely substitute, and he had been wrong in his estimate alike of ally and enemy.

Above all came that cruelest stab--what would Wratislaw think of it?
He had disgraced himself in the eyes of his friend.