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"Her ladyship left for Devonshire, sir, by the ten-fifty train." Tallente went back to the fight with those words ringing in his ears. He had deliberately torn to pieces his house of refuge. Success or failure, what did it matter now? Yet with the dogged courage of one loathing failure for failure's own sake, he flung himself into the struggle.
"You're not enjoying it, I think, so much as you ought." "I see" he appeared thoughtfully to agree. "Great is my privilege." "Oh it's not your privilege! It has nothing to do with me. It has to do with yourself. Your failure's general." "Ah there you are!" he laughed. "It's the failure of Woollett. THAT'S general." "The failure to enjoy," Miss Gostrey explained, "is what I mean." "Precisely.
"I've been thinking," Dunn muttered in the heavy, sulky manner he always assumed at Bittermeads. "Not weakening, eh?" asked Deede Dawson. "No," answered Dunn. "I'm not." "Good," Deede Dawson exclaimed. "There's a lot to win, and no fear of failure. I don't see that failure's possible. Do you?" "No," answered Dunn. "I suppose not." "The mate's sure this time," Deede Dawson declared.
FAILURE and Success passed away from Earth, and found themselves in a Foreign Land. Success still wore her laurel-wreath which she had won on Earth. There was a look of ease about her whole appearance; and there was a smile of pleasure and satisfaction on her face, as though she knew she had done well and had deserved her honours. Failure's head was bowed: no laurel-wreath encircled it.
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