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oiled
fearfully from that. Within a week his oak and silver would have to be sold and the passion flower would
wither on the walls.
Steel had not told anybody yet; the strong man had grappled with his trouble alone. Had he been a man of
business he might have found some way out of the difficulty. Even his mother didn't know. She was asleep
upstairsperhaps dreaming of her son's greatness. What would the dear old mater say when she knew? Well
she had been a good mother to himand it had been a labour of love to furnish the house for her as for himself.
Perhaps there would be a few tears in those gentle eyesbut no more. Thank Godno reproaches there.
David lighted a cigarette and paced restlessly round the dining-room. Never had he appreciated its quiet
beauty more than he did now. There were flowersblood-red flowerson the table under the graceful electric
stand that Steel had designed himself. He snapped off the light as if the sight pained himand strode into his
study. For a time he stood moodily gazing at his flowers and ferns. How every leaf there was pregnant with
association. There was the Moorish clock droning the midnight hour. When Steel had brought that clock--
Tingtingting. Pringpringpingpring. Tingtingtingting.
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