“Both!”
There was silence for a moment. The hands of the two men met and clasped and parted.
“I must go,” said Storm, and he moved across the room with a look of utter weariness.
“But where are you going to?”
“I don't know—anywhere—nowhere—it doesn't matter now.”
“Well——”
“Good-night!”
“Good-night!”
Drake stood at the door below until the slow, uncertain footsteps had turned the corner of the street and died away.
John Storm was sure now. Overwhelmed by his own disgrace, ashamed of his downfall, and perhaps with a sense of her own share in it, Glory had destroyed herself.