“It’s not all right; and you’re not all right,” cried Norris, in a frantic grasping after the truth of the matter. “The old relationships are slipping away and something that was as dear to me as myself is going with them.”
He turned away and Dick suddenly rose.
“Ellery,” he cried hoarsely, and Norris turned to see anguish in Dick’s face and outstretched hand, “I—I—can’t explain to you,” cried Percival; “but, Ellery—” he moved forward, “don’t cut the bonds of old friendship, for God’s sake! I need you now, as I never did before. If you desert me, I shall lose my grip.”
Norris stepped back, and the two took each other’s hands and looked steadfastly, eye into eye. And Norris saw something that took on him the hold that death has on us, and made him ready to forgive. Death is the big problem of every mind. We may perhaps master and solve the question when the death is of the body, but when the soul dies out, the problem is too great.
Ellery sank into a chair with weariness.
“Tell me about it,” he said.
Then Dick stiffened again.
“There isn’t anything to tell.”
“See here,” said Norris. “This isn’t only a question of the lighting franchise. The city may walk in darkness and be damned for all I care; but I can’t bear that you should walk in darkness. Do you realize what it means? You have fought your first public battle on a basis of truth. You make your first public appearance in league with evil. You are killing the hope of your public career before it is fairly in bud.”
“I know it,” said Dick.