"Can't what, Colonel?"
"Can't drop—drop out of the running—damn it all, man! you can't—you can't—let it be a walk-over for me—after all that's—"
"That's where you've made your mistake, Colonel, I guess. You thought there was—was a—a race, so to speak—and that I was in it. Well, I wasn't?"
"But what the deuce—?"
"I not only wasn't in it—but there was no race. There never was. It was a walk-over for—for some one—from the start. Now I guess I'll say good night."
He turned away abruptly, but, having taken a few steps, came back again.
"Look here! Let's have a cigarette."
Ashley fumbled for his case, opened it, and held it up. "I say, take two or three."
As Ashley lifted the one he was smoking to serve as a light Davenant noticed that the hand trembled, and steadied it in the grasp of his own.
"Thanks; and good night again," he said, briefly, as he strode finally away into the darkness.