“I know you are,” Franz answered simply.
“There is this that I want to tell you, Franz, if I may,” Philip continued.
“Yes?”
“Barbara is to be married to-night.” He came to an abrupt stop. “I have determined to go East,” he went on presently. “It will mean greater opportunity. A garbled version of that affair of Anson's has got abroad and my mother is equally anxious to break up here. What I wished to ask you is, won't you join me, dear old fellow?”
“And allow my blindness to be your affliction?”
“You are more to me than I can express. First my mother—then you, and after you—Perkins.”
Franz swept his hand across his forehead.
“Wait! How can I think of the future? My very world is ended! Wait.”
Philip stole out of the room and from the house. It was snowing heavily. The ground was already covered. It had been bare at supper-time. He kept on up the street until he was opposite the Gerards.
The house was brilliantly lighted, but the wedding party was still absent at the church. He must see her once more!