"What do you propose?" said Woodville, falling into the Greek's laconic tone.
"Why should a man of your ability go twice a week in an omnibus to a shabby studio, in hopes of making a few pounds a year by copying? Because you're hard up. Why should you be so hard up? I met you once going there, and thought how hard it was. It is dreadful to be hard up.... This is what I propose. I can easily obtain for you a post in connection with my bank. The salary to begin with will be two thousand pounds a year. In Athens."
"Athens!"
"I propose that you try it for a year. During that year I will not see the lady. I will efface myself. If at the end of that time you both still feel the same I shall give up for ever my own wish. You can have a similar post then in London."
"Mr. Ridokanaki, you are too kind. But why, why should you?"
"Because I hate to see you near her. If your attachment for each other is the real thing it will stand this separation. Then I shall sink my own feelings. Of course, you see I mean it."
"Thank you," said Woodville, rather touched, and hesitating.
"Please understand," continued Ridokanaki, "that I don't hope for one moment there is in any case a chance for me. It's chiefly," he said markedly, "to spare me a year's torture. I can't stand your being in the same house with her. It kills me. I'll try, then, when you've given me this chance, to turn into a friend, a godfather!" He poured out some old brandy and drank it. Woodville changed colour. "They speak of me as a Don Juan, I believe, but I'm really much more of a Don Quixote. If you spare me this year I'll do anything to help you both."
He tapped the liqueur-glass on the table nervously, and went on. "I have got this very badly. Very badly. Oh very."
"How can I accept from you——"