e, no doubt. I was in no humour for going on my
knees. But she knew right enough that I wouldn't have risked refusal,
unless I was very keen on the dance."

"All the same, you _will_ give her another chance. You must. No act
of folly on her part can make it right for you to leave her in such a
false position."

"The position was her own choice,--not mine."

"One could guess as much. Yet the fact remains that she is--yours, to
make or mar: and it seems to me no less than your duty to pocket your
pride, and save her from her own foolishness in spite of herself."

Lenox drew an audible breath, like a man in pain.

"You do know how to hit between the eyes," he said very low. "But--I
have suffered enough at her hands."

"And has she suffered nothing--at yours?"

Honor's voice was scarcely louder than his own, and her pulses throbbed
at her own daring. Lenox stood stock-still, and looked at her.

"Upon . . my . . soul," he said slowly, "you are a stunning woman!
I . . ."

"Please don't think I meant you to answer such a question," she broke
in hurriedly, with flaming cheeks.

"Of course not. You meant it as a reminder that there are two sides to
every question."

"Yes. How nice of you to understand! I have no shadow of right to
take you to task. But when the fate of two lives seems hanging on a
thread, one dare not keep silence.--Now, I think we ought to turn back.
And I wonder if you would mind telling me a little about your wife,"
she added, with diplomatic intent to prolong his softened mood. "She
is so charming; so individual. But I haven't been able to get at her
at all. She seems almost to dislike me; and I am just beginning to
guess why."

"Nonsense . . . nonsense," he protested brusquely. "You are entirely
mistaken."

"That also remains to be proved!"

They retraced their steps down the rough path that descends from the
Mall to the Assembly Rooms, walking very slowly, as people do when
absorbed. Honor, with all a woman's skill, imparted a flavour of
reminiscence to their talk; and no man with a spark of love in his
heart can hold out, for long, against the magic suggestiveness of
memory. For all his guarded indifference of manner, she felt the ice
melting under her touch: and the passionate human interest, of which
she had already spoken, held her, to exclusion of such minor
trivialities as possibly distracted partners. For this woman, the
human note,--be it never so untuneful--sur