of anything. But
Leicester was not playing a part. He felt that nothing was too much,
that no sacrifice was too great to win the woman who stood before him.
And yet in his sacrifice he would not appear to humble himself, for he
was a proud man.

"In the past I have not taken the trouble to contradict idle gossip," he
said. "I did not think it worth while. Besides, I did not mind what
people believed about me. But I have the right to tell you the truth."

"Really, Mr. Leicester, there is no need, and I do not wish to hear
confessions."

"But I have the right."

"What right?"

"The right of a man whose future is in your hands, the right of a man
whom you can send to heaven or to hell," he replied. "Oh, I am not
speaking idle words. Forgive me if I seem to boast. I am no dandy who
has made love a dozen times, and to whom a refusal means nothing but
what a bottle of wine or a trip to the Continent can atone for. Whether
your answer is yes or no, means everything to me. For you must become my
wife, I tell you you _must_!"

The girl's eyes flashed refusal, even while they did not lack in
admiration. No woman respects a man the less because he will not
contemplate refusal.

"Listen, then," he went on. "You have heard all sorts of things about
me. I am an atheist, I am a drunkard, I am a cynic, and I laugh at the
standards of Mrs. Grundy. Yes, you have heard all that."

"And I have no right to interfere with your mode of life," she said,
"only, Mr. Leicester----"

"Wait a moment before you say what is on your lips," he interrupted. "In
this case it is for me to speak, and you can do no other than listen."

"Why?" she asked, almost angrily.

"Your sense of what is fair and honourable forbids you," he said. "Yes,
I may be what is commonly reported, but there is another side even to
that. Let me tell you, then, that I, who never professed to believe in
what is called truth and honour, never willingly deceived any man,
either by word or by deed. Yes, let me do myself justice. I, who have
laughed at Mrs. Grundy and all her ways, never broke a promise made. And
more, no man can accuse me of sullying either the honour of man or
woman. I may be all that is said of me, but I am not that kind of man."

Something, not only in his words, but in his manner, appealed to her. In
spite of herself, she gave him a quick, searching glance. There was
something noble in his face, there was a healthy anger in his words.
Whatever his