Terry came in, and flung himself into a chair.
"Good heavens, what's happened?" I ventured.
He did not answer at first. He only stared. Then he found his voice. "I don't know how to tell you what's happened," he groaned. "You'll despise me. You'll want to kick me out of your room."
"I won't!" I spoke sharply, to bring him to himself. "What is it? Hasn't she come?"
"She has come. That's it!"
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, my dear Pal, I—I don't love her any more."
If I hadn't been sitting in a chair I should have collapsed on to one—or the floor.
"You don't love her?" I faltered.
"No. And that's not all. It's perhaps not even the worst!"