The next moment his head was on John's breast and John's arm was across Harry's shoulders and John was saying such words as the wounded heart loves to hear.

Then Harry told all his trouble and all his temptation and John freely forgave him.

With little persuasion, indeed almost voluntarily, he gave John a sacred promise never to touch a card again.

And then there were some moments of that satisfying silence which occurs when a great danger has been averted or a great wrong been put right.
But Harry looked white and wretched.

He had been driven, as it were, out of the road of destruction, but he felt like a man in a pathless desert who saw no road of any kind.