My Isabel, what is there to be
afraid of?"

"You," Isabel sighed out. He was gratified, and betrayed it. "No,
Lawrence, you misunderstand. I am not--not shy of you . . ." Under
his mocking eyes she gave it up and tried again. "Well, I am, but
if that were all I shouldn't refuse . . . I should like you to be
happy. Oh! yes, I love you, and I'd so far rather not fight, I'd
rather--" she waited a moment like a swimmer on the sand's edge, but
his deep need of her carried her away and with a little sigh she
flung herself into the open sea--"let you kiss me, because I don't
want anything so much as to make you happy, and I believe you would
be, and besides I--I should like it myself. But I must know more.
I must know the truth. She--Mrs. Cleve--"

"I've already given you my word: do you think I would lie to
you?"

"No, I don't; they say men do, but I'm sure you wouldn't. I
don't believe you ever would deceive me. But there have been
other women, haven't there, since your wife left you?" Lawrence
assented briefly. At that moment he would have liked to see Mrs.
Cleve hanged and drawn and quartered. "Other women who were--
who--with whom--"

"Must you distress yourself like this? Wouldn't it do if I
promised to lay my record before Val, and let him be judge?"

"Would you do that?"

"If you wish it."

"Wouldn't you hate it?"

Lawrence smiled.

"And I should hate it for you,", said Isabel. "No: no one can
judge you for me and no one shall try. I know you better than
Val ever would. No, if you're to be humiliated it shall be before
me and me only." She brought the colour into his face. "There
have been others, Lawrence?"

"My dear, I've lived the life of other men."

"Do all men live so?"

"Pretty well all."

"Does Val?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "His facilities are limited!"

"He did once--might again?"

"Couldn't we confine the issue to ourselves?"

"Are you afraid of my misjudging Val? I never should: my dearest
darling Val is a fixed standard for me, and nothing could alter
the way I think of him."

"Don't challenge luck," Lawrence muttered.

"I'm not, it's true. I'm surer of Val than I am of myself, or
you, or the sun's rising tomorrow. All I want is to cheek you by
him."

"Val is genuinely religious and a bit of an ascetic. I have no
doubt that his life is now and will continue to be spotless. But
that it was always so is most unlikely. Army subalterns during
the war wer