Then that conception of Ingram that had before begun to hover in Morgan's mind now forced itself upon him wholly. He had always understood that the man had been inclined to take him somewhat as a good joke, but this he had not minded so much, so long as he believed that his personality and his aspirations really interested him. Now his sense of not having been looked upon seriously predominated, and with it came an exaggerated consciousness of everything in Ingram that was obnoxious to his spirit. If the re-reading of the letter had been a torture for him, the knowledge that it had been ruthlessly exposed to other eyes aggravated the pain tenfold, especially at this particular moment.
"And so this person, whose vile scent impregnates this, has had my soul laid bare before her for her amusement!"
"Whose vile scent?" repeated Ingram, angrily. "I must ask you not to use such language about any friend of mine."
"You went to her, no doubt, to be praised and fawned upon for your generosity to me, and afterwards——"
"Don't be a fool!" exclaimed Ingram, cutting him short.
"Thank you. I shall take the advice. I have been a fool long enough."
Morgan moved out of the room, leaving Ingram flushed and motionless.
CHAPTER II.
As Morgan had told Ingram, he had that day spent his last shilling. He had thus no option but to walk home to his rooms in Chester Terrace, Regent's Park. It was a long walk, and one had already struck, but he did not hurry. The night was a fine one of early spring, and it suited his mood to linger in the free air.