But Averil had no answer ready.  She stood silent.

Derrick laid his hand on her arm.  It was a light touch, but somehow it conveyed to her the fact that he was holding himself in with a tighter rein than ever before.

“Don’t torture me!” he said, speaking quickly, nervously.  “Tell me either to stay or—­go!” His voice dropped on the last word, and for a second Averil saw the torture on his face.

It was too much for her resolution.  All her life she had been this boy’s chosen companion and confidante.  She felt she could not turn from him now in his distress, and deliberately break his heart.  Yet for one tumultuous second she battled with her impulse.  Then—­she yielded.  Somehow that look in Derrick’s eyes compelled her.

She put her hands on his shoulders.

“Dick—­stay!” she said.

His arms closed round her in a second.  “You mean—­” he said, under his breath.

“Yes, Dick,” she answered bravely, “I do mean.  Dear boy, don’t ever look like that again!  You have hurt me horribly.”

Derrick turned her face up to his own and kissed her repeatedly and passionately.

“You shall never regret it, my darling,” he said.  “You have turned my world into a paradise.  I will do the same for yours.”

“It doesn’t take much to make me happy,” Averil said, leaning her forehead against his shoulder.  “I hope you will be a kind master, Dick, and let me have my own way sometimes.”

“Master?” scoffed Derrick, kissing her hair.  “You know you can lead me by the nose from world’s end to world’s end.”

“I wonder,” said Averil, with a little sigh.  “Do you know, Dick, I’m not quite sure of that.”

“What!” said Derrick softly.  “Not—­quite—­sure!”

“Not when you look as you did thirty seconds ago,” Averil explained.  “Never mind, dear old boy!  I’m glad you can look like that, though, mind, you must never, never do it again if you live to be a hundred.”

She looked up at him suddenly and clasped her hands behind his neck.  “You do love me, don’t you, Dick?” she said.

“My darling, I worship you!” Derrick answered very solemnly.

And Averil drew his head down with a quivering smile and kissed him on the lips.

IV

CARLYON DEFENDS HIMSELF

“Ah, Derrick!  I thought I could not be mistaken.”

Derrick turned swiftly at the touch of a hand on his shoulder, and nearly tumbled into the roadway.  He had been sauntering somewhat aimlessly down the Strand till pulled up in this rather summary fashion.  He now found himself staring at a tall man who had come up behind him—­a man with a lined face and drooping eyelids, and a settled weariness about his whole demeanour which, somehow, conveyed the impression that, in his opinion, at least, there was nothing on earth worth striving for.

Derrick recovered his balance and stood still before him.  Speech, however, quite unexpectedly failed him.  The quiet greeting had scattered his ideas momentarily.