He bows his head and leans dejectedly silent over the table.

c.o.kESON. I feel for you--I do really. Aren't your sisters going to do anything for you?

FALDER. One's in consumption. And the other----

c.o.kESON. Ye...es. She told me her husband wasn't quite pleased with you.

FALDER. When I went there--they were at supper--my sister wanted to give me a kiss--I know. But he just looked at her, and said: "What have you come for?" Well, I pocketed my pride and I said: "Aren't you going to give me your hand, Jim? Cis is, I know," I said. "Look here!" he said, "that's all very well, but we'd better come to an understanding. I've been expecting you, and I've made up my mind.

I'll give you fifteen pounds to go to Canada with." "I see," I said--"good riddance! No, thanks; keep your fifteen pounds."

Friendship's a queer thing when you've been where I have.

c.o.kESON. I understand. Will you take the fifteen pound from me?

[Fl.u.s.tered, as FALDER regards him with a queer smile] Quite without prejudice; I meant it kindly.

FALDER. I'm not allowed to leave the country.

c.o.kESON. Oh! ye...es--ticket-of-leave? You aren't looking the thing.

FALDER. I've slept in the Park three nights this week. The dawns aren't all poetry there. But meeting her--I feel a different man this morning. I've often thought the being fond of hers the best thing about me; it's sacred, somehow--and yet it did for me. That's queer, isn't it?

c.o.kESON. I'm sure we're all very sorry for you.

FALDER. That's what I've found, Mr. c.o.keson. Awfully sorry for me.

[With quiet bitterness] But it doesn't do to a.s.sociate with criminals!

c.o.kESON. Come, come, it's no use calling yourself names. That never did a man any good. Put a face on it.

FALDER. It's easy enough to put a face on it, sir, when you're independent. Try it when you're down like me. They talk about giving you your deserts. Well, I think I've had just a bit over.

c.o.kESON. [Eyeing him askance over his spectacles] I hope they haven't made a Socialist of you.

FALDER is suddenly still, as if brooding over his past self; he utters a peculiar laugh.

c.o.kESON. You must give them credit for the best intentions. Really you must. n.o.body wishes you harm, I'm sure.

FALDER. I believe that, Mr. c.o.keson. n.o.body wishes you harm, but they down you all the same. This feeling--[He stares round him, as though at something closing in] It's crushing me. [With sudden impersonality] I know it is.

c.o.kESON. [Horribly disturbed] There's nothing there! We must try and take it quiet. I'm sure I've often had you in my prayers. Now leave it to me. I'll use my gumption and take 'em when they're jolly. [As he speaks the two partners come in]

c.o.kESON [Rather disconcerted, but trying to put them all at ease]

I didn't expect you quite so soon. I've just been having a talk with this young man. I think you'll remember him.

JAMES. [With a grave, keen look] Quite well. How are you, Falder?

WALTER. [Holding out his hand almost timidly] Very glad to see you again, Falder.

FALDER. [Who has recovered his self-control, takes the hand] Thank you, sir.

c.o.kESON. Just a word, Mr. James. [To FALDER, pointing to the clerks' office] You might go in there a minute. You know your way.

Our junior won't be coming this morning. His wife's just had a little family.

FALDER, goes uncertainly out into the clerks' office.

c.o.kESON. [Confidentially] I'm bound to tell you all about it. He's quite penitent. But there's a prejudice against him. And you're not seeing him to advantage this morning; he's under-nourished. It's very trying to go without your dinner.

JAMES. Is that so, c.o.kESON?

c.o.kESON. I wanted to ask you. He's had his lesson. Now we know all about him, and we want a clerk. There is a young fellow applying, but I'm keeping him in the air.

JAMES. A gaol-bird in the office, c.o.kESON? I don't see it.

WALTER. "The rolling of the chariot-wheels of Justice!" I've never got that out of my head.

JAMES. I've nothing to reproach myself with in this affair. What's he been doing since he came out?

c.o.kESON. He's had one or two places, but he hasn't kept them. He's sensitive--quite natural. Seems to fancy everybody's down on him.

JAMES. Bad sign. Don't like the fellow--never did from the first.

"Weak character"'s written all over him.

WALTER. I think we owe him a leg up.

JAMES. He brought it all on himself.

WALTER. The doctrine of full responsibility doesn't quite hold in these days.

JAMES. [Rather grimly] You'll find it safer to hold it for all that, my boy.

WALTER. For oneself, yes--not for other people, thanks.

JAMES. Well! I don't want to be hard.

c.o.kESON. I'm glad to hear you say that. He seems to see something [spreading his arms] round him. 'Tisn't healthy.

JAMES. What about that woman he was mixed up with? I saw some one uncommonly like her outside as we came in.

c.o.kESON. That! Well, I can't keep anything from you. He has met her.

JAMES. Is she with her husband?

c.o.kESON. No.

JAMES. Falder living with her, I suppose?

c.o.kESON. [Desperately trying to retain the new-found jollity] I don't know that of my own knowledge. 'Tisn't my business.

JAMES. It's our business, if we're going to engage him, c.o.kESON.

c.o.kESON. [Reluctantly] I ought to tell you, perhaps. I've had the party here this morning.