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Updated: May 23, 2025
On the couch, tucked away between a novel and a crystal gazing-ball, was a white Persian kitten, fast asleep. Chilcote picked up the ball and held it between his eyes and the fire; then he laughed superciliously, tossed it back into its place, and caught the kitten's tail. The little animal stirred, stretched itself, and began to purr. At the same moment the door of the room opened.
There was silence while the stranger thought over the information just given him. Then he spoke again, with a new touch of vehemence. "So I imagined," he said. "Though, on my soul, I never really credited it. To have gained so much, and to have thrown it away for a common vice!" He made an exclamation of disgust. Chilcote gave an unsteady laugh. "You judge hardly." he said.
The little man came up smiling and with an outstretched hand. "There's no penalty for separating husband and wife, is there, Mrs. Chilcote? How are you, Chilcote?" He turned from one to the other with the quick, noiseless manner that always characterized him. Loder turned aside to hide his vexation, but Eve greeted their host with her usual self-possessed smile.
Loder talked continuously, sometimes in short, curt sentences, sometimes with ironic touches of humor; he talked until Chilcote, strangely affected by contact with another personality after his weeks of solitude, fell under his influence his excitement rising, his imagination stirring at the novelty of change.
Then with a quick action he leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk. "It's going to be something more than imagination for you, Chilcote," he said, impressively. "It's going to be solid earnest!" He spoke rapidly and with rather more than his usual shrewd decisiveness; then he paused to see the effect of his announcement. Loder was still studying the flaring poster.
"No. That can wait. The name of Loder is better out of the book. We can't be too careful." Loder spoke with unusual impetuosity. Already a slight, unreasonable jealousy was coloring his thoughts. Already he grudged the idea of Chilcote with his unstable glance and restless fingers opening the drawers and sorting the papers that for one stupendous fortnight had been his without question.
On the fifth day after the momentous 1st of April on which he had recalled Loder and resumed his own life Chilcote left his house and walked towards Bond Street. Though the morning was clear and the air almost warm for the time of year, he was buttoned into a long overcoat and was wearing a muffler and a pair of doeskin gloves.
At the sight a strange sensation seized him; his grip on the banister loosened, and, pushing past Chilcote, he hurriedly mounted the stairs. Outside his own door the other overtook him. "Loder!" he said. "Loder! I meant no harm. A man must have a laugh sometimes." But Loder was facing the door and did not turn round. A sudden fear shook Chilcote.
Then, turning to Loder with a smile of encouragement, he had laid his fingers for an instant on his arm. "Chilcote," he had said, "when the time comes, remember you have all my confidence." Looking back upon that day, Loder often wondered at the calmness with which he bore the uncertainty.
It was a little less than three weeks since Chilcote and Loder had drunk their toast, and again Loder was seated at his desk. His head was bent and his hand moved carefully as he traced line after line of meaningless words on a sheet of foolscap. Having covered the page with writing, he rose, moved to the centre-table, and compared his task with an open letter that lay there.
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