“It’s all over, Gregg,” he said, dropping into a chair, without even offering the painter his hand.
“And he refused to help!” exclaimed Adam.
“Yes, not a cent! There was nothing else to do. We can pay every dollar we owe, but it leaves me stranded. Madeleine is the worst part of it. I did not think she’d go back on me. They are furious at her house. I stopped there, but she wouldn’t see me—nobody would. She’s wrong, and when she gets the truth she’ll think differently, but it’s pretty hard while it lasts.”
Adam laid his hand on Phil’s shoulder and looked steadily into his face.
“Do you regret it, Phil?” The old search-lights were sweeping right and left again.
“Yes, all the trouble it brings and the injury to the firm and to Mr. Eggleston, for I don’t forget he’s my partner. I didn’t think it would end in ruin. I bungled it badly, maybe.”
“Are you sorry?”
“No, I’d do it over again!” answered Philip firmly, as he glanced at the portrait.
Gregg tightened his grasp on Philip’s shoulder. “That’s the true ring, my son!” he cried, his eyes filling with tears. “I’ve never loved you as I do this minute Now you begin to live. This day marks the parting of the roads: From this day you go forward, not back. It doesn’t make any difference what happens or what things you——”