Eric turned to the window and smoked his cigar in silence.
He had the deepest respect for the grief of his friend—it was the keenest misery a human soul can meet here below—death causes many pangs, but not the bitter blank that comes when one is betrayed by the individual he or she had been ready to die for.
Yes, from the hour the base Judas betrayed his loving Master, human misery has never known a lower depth than this.
For five minutes Joe fought his battle all alone, and then he looked up.
His face was set and calm, as though he had conquered again.
It was a bitter struggle and wearing upon him but he must go through to the end.
“Eric, I am ready to converse again. Pardon my weakness, old friend, but this is a cruel business. I did not think I was such a baby.
“Baby! Great heavens! man, you bear it twice as well as I could. Such a thing would have murdered me outright.”
They began talking again.
Eric spoke of his unformed plans, and between them they began to patch up a scheme by means of which the end they sought would be attained without publicity.