tried my best to find out if you were right in
encouraging Owen to marry her."

She listened with a growing sense of reassurance, struggling to separate
the abstract sense of his words from the persuasion in which his eyes
and voice enveloped them.

"I see--I do see," she murmured.

"You must see, also, that I could hardly say this to Owen without
offending him still more, and perhaps increasing the breach between Miss
Viner and himself. What sort of figure should I cut if I told him I'd
been trying to find out if he'd made a proper choice? In any case, it's
none of my business to offer an explanation of what she justly says
doesn't need one. If she declines to speak, it's obviously on the ground
that Owen's insinuations are absurd; and that surely pledges me to
silence."

"Yes, yes! I see," Anna repeated. "But I don't want you to explain
anything to Owen."

"You haven't yet told me what you do want."

She hesitated, conscious of the difficulty of justifying her request;
then: "I want you to speak to Sophy," she said.

Darrow broke into an incredulous laugh. "Considering what my previous
attempts have resulted in----!"

She raised her eyes quickly. "They haven't, at least, resulted in your
liking her less, in your thinking less well of her than you've told me?"

She fancied he frowned a little. "I wonder why you go back to that?"

"I want to be sure--I owe it to Owen. Won't you tell me the exact
impression she's produced on you?"

"I have told you--I like Miss Viner."

"Do you still believe she's in love with Owen?"

"There was nothing in our short talks to throw any particular light on
that."

"You still believe, though, that there's no reason why he shouldn't
marry her?"

Again he betrayed a restrained impatience. "How can I answer that
without knowing her reasons for breaking with him?"

"That's just what I want you to find out from her."

"And why in the world should she tell me?"

"Because, whatever grievance she has against Owen, she can certainly
have none against me. She can't want to have Owen connect me in his mind
with this wretched quarrel; and she must see that he will until he's
convinced you've had no share in it."

Darrow's elbow dropped from the mantel-piece and he took a restless step
or two across the room. Then he halted before her.

"Why can't you tell her this yourself?"

"Don't you see?"

He eyed her intently, and she pressed on: "You must have guessed that
Owen's je