unstrained fat, smelling vilely. The billy spat and dribbled on its hook, and the throb of the flames cast the stern dark face in alternate light and shadow. He shook the things out on the table. Letters, and again letters — ^tied with ribbon, with string and with bootlace. A painted tobacco pouch wrapped in tissue paper, and scented with lavender water; and other foolish little things such as a girl might give to the man she loves.
Ormond turned his eyes away.
"Best be getting on with it, old chap," he said softly.
Randal straightened and his words came with a rush.
"What's the sense of burning them? D'you think I can forget what she's said — ^here? D'you think I can ever forget what she has said? D'you think there's any fire burns hot enough for that? There isn't! I've been into hell to look for it———”
"Steady, old man! Steady! Randal — Randal — oh, I am sorry!"
"D——— your sorrow! I don't want it! Did
she say she was sorry, too? Did she send me a pretty proper little message to take the place of— these?"
He swept up a handful and slung them on the fire.
"What the devil right have you to be sorry? You Jov^d the Lion, and ^ou can go back to
