Sidcup laughed bitterly.
"Do you think that would make any difference to her?" he retorted. "You
don't know much about women----"
"I don't!" interjected Derrick.
"----If you think that would put her off. It would make her more gone on
you than ever. She's that sort. And if you don't, or can't, marry her,
what are you going to do?"
"The Lord knows," groaned Derrick, desperately.
"Look here, Green, you're a gentleman," said Sidcup.
"Am I? Thank you. But I'm not so sure. I don't know that I've any claim
to the title."
"You're a gentleman, right enough; we all know that," said Sidcup. "But
you haven't traded on it, I'll say that for you. And there's only one
thing for a man to do who is a gentleman----"
"And that is?" asked Derrick.
"To cut and run; to clear out," replied Sidcup. "Oh, don't make any
mistake! If you stay on with the company, things between you and Isabel
will grow from bad to worse."
"I tell you that it's your fancy, that you exaggerate----"
"She's one of the most beautiful women God ever made," said Sidcup,
ignoring Derrick's remonstrance, "and no man could resist for long such
a woman, especially when she's gone on him, as Isabel is on you. Yes,
there's only one thing for you to do, and that is to clear out as soon
as you're able. And if you're the straight man I think you, you'll do
it, for her sake--I won't say for mine."
Derrick rose painfully on his elbow.
"By Heaven, Sidcup," he said, in the stifled voice of a man who is
deeply moved, "you're a good chap; and, if I go, it will be for your
sake. I'd rather cut this hand off than come between a man and the girl
he loves."
"Yes, and there's another reason," said Sidcup, with a shake of the
head. "Isabel's not the only one; there's Alice."
Derrick's eyes shone angrily now.
"Oh, go to blazes!" he said. "You're out of your mind; you'll be telling
me that all the blessed women in the company----"
"Well, we'll let her go," said Sidcup, "though it's the truth. What are
you going to do?"
Derrick lay still for a moment or two; then he heaved a sigh. He had
found an occupation which, if it did not exactly suit him, provided him
with a living, and it was hard to be compelled to surrender it. It
seemed to him that he was doomed to be a wanderer, a fugitive; he had
flown from man's judgment; now he was told that he must fly from a
woman's love.