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A groan broke from Campbell's lips and he shivered all over. The

ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece seemed to him to be

dividing time into separate atoms of agony, each of which was too

terrible to be borne. He felt as if an iron ring was being slowly

tightened round his forehead, as if the disgrace with which he

was threatened had already come upon him. The hand upon his

shoulder weighed like a hand of lead. It was intolerable. It

seemed to crush him.

"Come, Alan, you must decide at once."

"I cannot do it," he said, mechanically, as though words could

alter things.

"You must. You have no choice. Don't delay."

He hesitated a moment. "Is there a fire in the room upstairs?"

"Yes, there is a gas-fire with asbestos."

"I shall have to go home and get some things from the

laboratory."

"No, Alan, you must not leave the house. Write out on a sheet of

notepaper what you want and my servant will take a cab and bring

the things back to you."