us dark, in front of the unspoken God: who is just beyond the dark threshold of the lower self, my lower self. There is a great God on the threshold of my lower self, whom I fear while he is my glory. And the spirit goes out like a spent candle."
Kangaroo watched with a heavy face like a mask.
"It is time for the spirit to leave us," he murmured in a somnambulist voice. "Time for the spirit to leave us."
Somers, who had dropped his face, hiding it as he spoke, watched the other man from under his brows. Kangaroo, who still sat impassive, like a frozen, antagonised Buddha, gave himself a jerk of recovery.
"Ah well!" he sighed, with a weary, impatient, condescending sigh. "I was never able to follow mysticism and metaphysics. One of my many limitations. I don't know what you mean."
"But what is your 'love' but a mystical thing?" asked Richard indignantly.
"My love? Why, that is something I feel, as plain as toothache."
"Well, so do I feel the other: and love has become like cardboard to me," said Richard, still indignant.
"Like cardboard? Well, I don't quite see love like cardboard, dear boy. For you are a dear boy, in spite of yourself. Oh yes, you are. There's some demon inside you makes you perverse, and won't let you be the dear, beautiful thing you are. But I'm going to exorcise that demon."
Somers gave a short laugh, the very voice of the demon speaking.
"Oh yes I am," said Kangaroo, in a steely voice. "I'm going to exorcise that demon, and release your beautiful Andromeda soul."
"Try," ejaculated Richard dryly, turning aside his face in distaste.
Kangaroo leaped to his feet and stood towering over the little enemy as if he would stoop over him and smother him in violent warmth and drive out the demon in that way. But Richard sat cold and withheld, and Kangaroo had not the power to touch him.
"I'm going to try," shouted the lawyer, in his slightly husky roar. "You've made it my prerogative by telling
