"Of course," he said, without looking up from his paper. "Shall I not live as she would have me live—working?"
But the future, as he saw it, was dim. . . .
Some years afterwards the Bishop of Gaunt confided his brief love-story to a friend.
"But why," said the friend, "since the husband had forfeited every right to be considered, why didn't you punch his head and bear the woman off in triumph?"
"To tell the truth," said Sacheverell, "I was tempted to some such decisive measure—sorely tempted."
"If you had succumbed," said the friend, drily, "she would have recovered."
"Don't say so," said Sacheverell, putting out his hand; "think I know it."
The friend, who was a psychologist, went home with more material for his great work on Impulse and Reason.
If the gods have no sense of humour they must weep a great deal.