"Yes; it was kind of you to come."
"You needn't compliment me, for I mightn't have come had I known whom I had to meet," answered Stanley coldly. "Waterman misled me."
"Anyhow, I'm glad you have come, and so will you be, I think, before you go back. I hope you don't look upon me as an enemy?"
"How else can I look upon you? Have you sent for me to mock me?"
"That's my last wish. I've sent for you to prevent you doing a great wrong to a friend of yours—Paul Percival."
"A friend of mine!" repeated Stanley, scornfully.
"Well, one who was your friend, and who, I hope, will soon be your friend again."
"You have more reason to be thankful to him than I have," laughed Stanley, bitterly. "He ran away from you, and left me with the work he hadn't the courage to go on with. I know that I didn't come very well out of it, but I didn't run away."
"No; you did well—much better than I did. I'm sorry, very sorry, I fought with you. More so, as by fighting you I separated two friends. Often and often I have prayed to be forgiven. It has all been a ghastly mistake."
"Mistake? Percival running away—there wasn't much mistake about that, I'm thinking."