t time she had a
vague inkling of the tragedy that was to follow so soon--although the
girl had lived with them for eight years or so:

"Oh, I'm not thinking of saying that he is not the best of husbands, or
that he is not very fond of the girl."

And then I said something like:

"Well, Leonora, a man sees more of these things than even a wife. And,
let me tell you, that in all the years I've known Edward he has never,
in your absence, paid a moment's attention to any other woman--not by
the quivering of an eyelash. I should have noticed. And he talks of you
as if you were one of the angels of God."

"Oh," she came up to the scratch, as you could be sure Leonora would
always come up to the scratch, "I am perfectly sure that he always
speaks nicely of me."

I daresay she had practice in that sort of scene--people must have been
always complimenting her on her husband's fidelity and adoration. For
half the world--the whole of the world that knew Edward and Leonora
believed that his conviction in the Kilsyte affair had been a
miscarriage of justice--a conspiracy of false evidence, got together by
Nonconformist adversaries. But think of the fool that I was....

II

LET me think where we were. Oh, yes... that conversation took place on
the 4th of August, 1913. I remember saying to her that, on that day,
exactly nine years before, I had made their acquaintance, so that it had
seemed quite appropriate and like a birthday speech to utter my little
testimonial to my friend Edward. I could quite confidently say that,
though we four had been about together in all sorts of places, for all
that length of time, I had not, for my part, one single complaint to
make of either of them. And I added, that that was an unusual record for
people who had been so much together. You are not to imagine that it was
only at Nauheim that we met. That would not have suited Florence.

I find, on looking at my diaries, that on the 4th of September, 1904,
Edward accompanied Florence and myself to Paris, where we put him up
till the twenty-first of that month. He made another short visit to us
in December of that year--the first year of our acquaintance. It must
have been during this visit that he knocked Mr Jimmy's teeth down his
throat. I daresay Florence had asked him to come over for that purpose.
In 1905 he was in Paris three times--once with Leonora, who wanted some
frocks. In 1906 we spent the best part of six weeks together at Mentone,