Crowther said no more.

He had had his say.

He waited with unswerving patience for the result.
Piers spoke at last, and there was a queer note of humour in his voice,--humour that was tragic.

"So I've got to go back again, have I?
Back to my valley of dry bones! There's no climbing the heights for me, Crowther, never will be.

Somehow or other, I am always tumbled back." "You're wrong," Crowther said, with quiet decision.