"They are within us and beyond us. It is the physiological structure of our brains, our nerve-cells, that makes and mars our lives.

"Our mental companionship was so beautiful. It was meant to last."

"That is the dream of youth. Nothing lasts. Everything flows—panta rei. We are all but sojourners in an inn. Friendship, as love, is an illusion. Life has nothing to take from a man who has no illusions."

"It has nothing to give him."

They said good-bye.

At the door Ernest met Abel.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"For a little pleasure trip."

Ernest knew that the boy lied.

He remembered that Abel Felton was at work upon some book, a play or a novel. It occurred to him to inquire how far he had progressed with it.

[Pg 17]Abel smiled sadly. "I am not writing it."

[Pg 17]

"Not writing it?"

"Reginald is."

"I am afraid I don't understand."

"Never mind. Some day you will."

[Pg 18]

[Pg 18]

[Pg 19]

[Pg 19]

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