Elsa was the first to rush to him. "Oh, Roger, did you really want to come back?" she cried.
Roger stooped and kissed her cheek. "Want to come back? Why, I've almost died of impatience getting back."
Dick shoved Elsa gently aside. "I'm sure things can be fixed up, Roger," he said. "Ernest isn't—"
Roger interrupted by placing both hands on Dick's shoulders. "Old man," he said. "The important thing to me now is for you to understand how I feel about you, how I understand what you've been through and how I need your help, just because of what you've been through."
There was a sudden silence. Charley, her great eyes on Roger's face, did not move. Dick cleared his throat.
"Why—why—Roger!—My God—do you mean it? That you don't hate me any more? Don't bluff me, Roger! I've been in too lonely a hell. What's happened to you, Rog?"
"I've come to," replied Roger, dropping his hands from Dick's shoulders and crossing the room to stand before Charley.
She had risen and was standing quietly behind her chair. Roger, with his eyes on hers, lifted both her hands against his breast.
"Charley!" he said, huskily, "Oh, Charley! Charley!" and then, his voice and his will failed him and he bowed his head on her shoulder.
Charley freed one hand and laid it on his head. "Poor child!" she murmured. "Poor old Roger!"