Without a word or a gesture, the Wastrel turned and staggered forth, out of the orbit of these two, having been thrust into it for a single purpose already described. "Put your arms about me. "Let the gentleman take his own course," said Jonathan, mildly. And now, a fair exchange, Sir. Answering him was agonizing. She found herself alone in the train asking herself what she must do next, and trying not to think of herself as cut off from home or any refuge whatever from the world she had resolved to face. He returned figuratively to his bed—the bed he had made for himself and in which he must for ever lie. Ennison listened, and his eyes glowed.
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