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Updated: June 14, 2025


The same thought struck Crowther a few hours later as Piers sat with him in his room, and devoted himself with considerable adroitness to making his fire burn through as quickly as possible, the while he briefly informed him that his wife was considered practically out of danger and had no further use for him for the present. Crowther's heart sank at the news though he gave no sign of dismay.

"If you want my promise, you have it. The business is yours, not mine. I shall never interfere." "Thank you thanks awfully!" Piers said. He drew a great breath. His hand went through Crowther's arm. "That gives me time to think," he said. "What an infernal tangle this beastly world is! I suppose you think there's a reason for everything?"

Here's a comfortable seat, and here's an English paper!" He thrust it into Crowther's hand and departed with a careless whistle on his lips. But Crowther did not look at the paper. His eyes followed Piers as long as he was in sight, and then with that look in them as of one who watches from afar turned contemplatively towards the sea.

"You may be right and you may not; but you've been a brick to me, old fellow," he said, a note of deep feeling in his voice, "several kinds of a brick, and I'm not likely to forget it. If you ever get into the Church, you'll be known as the parson who doesn't preach, and it'll be a reputation to be proud of." Crowther's answering grip was the grip of a giant.

What of that love now Love the Invincible that should have shattered the gates of the prison-house and led him forth in triumph? Reaching town, she drove straight to Crowther's rooms. But she was met with disappointment. Crowther was out. He would be back in the evening, she was told, but probably not before.

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