"Poor Isaac!" she murmured, with a little shiver. "Do you know, I remember him years ago, when he was the kindest-hearted man breathing. He went to Russia to visit some of his mother's relatives, and when he came back everything was changed. He saw injustice everywhere, and it seemed almost to unbalance his mind. The very sight of the west-end, the crowds coming out of the theatres, the shops in Bond Street, seemed to send him half mad. And it all started, Arnold, with real pity for the poor. It isn't a personal matter with him at any time."
Arnold nodded thoughtfully.
"Poor chap!" he remarked. "Just at first I really used to like talking to him. He was so earnest, and so many of his arguments were absolutely sound."
"It is only lately," Ruth said, "that he has changed so much."
"I think it is quite time that you and he were separated," Arnold declared. "It is evident, nowadays, that he isn't responsible for his actions."
"Separated!" she repeated bitterly. "You talk as though I had a choice of homes."
"You have," he assured her. "However, we won't say anything about that just now. I want to talk about myself."
"And I want to listen, dear!" she exclaimed. "You must tell me what has happened, Arnie. Has Mr. Weatherley taken you into partnership, or has some one of your disagreeable relatives found you out and been pouring money into your pockets?"
"Neither," he replied. "As a matter of fact, there is no Mr. Weatherley just at present."
"No Mr. Weatherley?" she repeated, wonderingly. "I don't understand."