“Do you mean to say that Winston died in poverty?” Andrews asked, as he got up to leave.
“He hadn’t a dollar.”
“Let me see; whom did he marry?”
“Mildred Hughes,” Briarley hazarded, repeating her name calmly.
“Oh, that’s so; I do remember her. Half the fellows at college were daft about her. Winston’s money won her, they thought.”
“Where are you off to, now?” asked Briarley.
Andrews turned. “I’ve got the ends of a million threads to wind up before I start.”
“And some to break, no doubt.”
“Let me hear from you occasionally,” Glenn said, as he grasped the other’s hand, and felt like adding, “I have guessed your secret, Briarley, my friend. Some men are heroes simply because they didn’t marry.”
“I’ll try to come down to see you off. But if I shouldn’t make it, remember to get all you can out of life, my boy, and I wish you the best of good luck.”