CHAPTER XXI
THE ONLY WAY
The cabman was of a speculative nature. Had hung on the chance of Masters' needing to return. Half-sovereign fares are not picked up every hour in the day; the man who dispensed them was worth waiting for.
"Where to, sir?"
The query called down through the trap in the cab roof. The reply was:
"Back again."
Directions so given, because, for the moment, the fare could think of nowhere else.... The cool air blowing on his face gradually brought him back to his usual clear perception of things; he remembered.
The woman he loved so, was lost and dead to him; he quite realized that. Knew too that he loved her still; would do anything to ensure or bring about her happiness. Pity—heart-felt, whole-souled pity—was mingled with his feeling for her now.
Pondering over his position, he came to think of her as more sinned against than sinning. Almost joined in the prayer that the man she loved—whose existence was a bar to his own success—might return well enough to marry.
For Gracie's sake too—sweet, winsome little Gracie! If the man returned well enough to marry it would silence tongues. Surely it was a good prayer.