He stretched himself out in a comfortable attitude, his hands behind his head, and regarded Raine placidly.
“What sort of interest can the concerns of a worm like me have for you?”
“Every interest in the world,” replied Raine, flushing. “If it's merely a question of conscience on your part, I have no scruple in asking you to release Mrs. Stapleton from her engagement.”
Hockmaster's tone irritated Raine. He rose quickly, thrusting his straw hat to the back of his head, and stood over the recumbent American, with his hands on his hips.
“Yes, she did. Mrs. Stapleton is going to marry me.”
The words brought the other to his feet with a force that nearly upset the small table in front of him.
“God alive, man!” he cried, realizing the whole situation in a rush. “Why on earth didn't you tell me before?”
The two men looked into one another's eyes. It was Raine who was first disconcerted. The intense distress of the other was too genuine for him not to feel touched.
“You're the first man for years,” said Hockmaster, “that I have felt drawn to in friendship; and I have been powerfully drawn to you. I would have cut off my head sooner than said or done anything to pain you Why didn't you stop me this morning?”
Hockmaster threw away his extinct cigar, and put his hands in his pockets dejectedly.
“Yes, you did so; and I went on running knives into you. Why didn't you pitch me into the lake last night? I wish to God you'd do it now.”
“We will forget all that,” said Raine, kindly.
“You may, but I shan't. And she--for heaven's sake, ask her to forgive me. I was trying to do my best. You believe that, don't you?”
“And I'll tell you, Chetwynd,” continued Hockmaster, with a truer ring of feeling in his voice than Raine had ever perceived, “I meant to be a good man to her, to put down my cloak over every puddle in life for her to walk upon, to make her just as happy as I could. But I guess I've been a blamed fool. I've been a blamed fool all my life. First thing I remember was running away from school to live in the woods. At first it was glorious. Then it rained all night, and I crawled back next morning sick and miserable, and was put to bed for a month. I reckon I'll go home. My White Lead Company's going to burst like all the other bubbles. I heard this morning. An hour ago I thought, 'Anyway, I've found a good friend and a wife in Europe.' Now that's gone. But she'll be happy. You're worth twenty million of me. You won't see me again. I suppose I'm the sorriest man standing on the earth at the present moment; but you won't think worse of me than I am, will you?”