She rose, and he turned out the gas, then followed her closely upstairs, carrying her candle. On the landing he kissed her close.

`Good-night, mother.'

`Good-night!' she said.

He pressed his face upon the pillow in a fury of misery. And yet, somewhere in his soul, he was at peace because he still loved his mother best. It was the bitter peace of resignation.

The efforts of his father to conciliate him next day were a great humiliation to him.

Everybody tried to forget the scene.