All that is, at all, Lasts ever, past recall; Earth changes, but thy soul and God stand sure. —Robert Browning CLAUDE Winthrop had paid little attention to his business since the night his wife was taken ill. He had sent a message down to the office to the effect that his wife was in a serious condition, and that he could not leave home. Twice the private secretary had been out to consult him about some important affair that he only was familiar with, but beyond that and friendly notes of sympathy from different men in the house—which he had scarcely read—he had heard nothing. It had not seemed strange to him that things were going on just the same without him, nor had he stopped to think that the notes he had received from the heads of the firm had been curt and formal. He knew that he had left affairs in such shape that the man just below him could manage everything until he went back, and beyond that he had not troubled himself What was business at such a time as this?
