“Now, Grigg,” said Withery, in the same deliberately thoughtful way, “I want you to let me talk. I've come way back here just to do that. Hidderleigh showed me your letter. Then in my presence, he destroyed it. I have promised him I would speak of it to no one but you. ... Neither you nor I could have foreseen just how Hidderleigh would take this. He is, of course, as he has always been, a dogmatic thinker. But like others of us, he has grown some with the years. He's less narrow, Grigg. He knows you pretty well—your ability, your influence. He respects you.”
“Respects me?” Doane nearly laughed.
“Yes. He sees as clearly as you or I could that any human creature may slip. And he knows that no single slip is fatal. Grigg, he wants you to go back and take up your work.”
Doane could not at once comprehend this astonishing statement. He was deeply moved. Withery by his simple friendliness had already done much to restore in his mind, for the moment, a normal feeling for life.
“But he feels, Grigg, that you ought to marry again.”
Doane shook his head abruptly.
“No,” he cried, “I can't consider that. Not now.”
“As he said to me, Grigg, 'It is not good for man to be alone!'”
Withery let the subject rest here, and asked about the fighting. The whole outside world was watching these Hansi hills, it appeared. The Imperial Government was already disclaiming responsibility. Troops were on their way, from Hong Kong, from the Philippines, from Indo-China.
“It will be a month or so before they can get out here,” mused Doane.