man for all
his wearisomeness, and his kindness was such as I could accept. But I
know what I say about him is true. Ye gods! Haven't I felt myself the
same swelling pride in my broadmindedness? When a man is going on my
journey he does not palter with truth.

Though I held myself aloof, as I say, from practically all my fellow
creatures here, I have not been cut off from the outside world. My
sisters, like this French court in Algiers, have accepted my statement
with polite incredulity. Their letters have been full of love,
half-veiled reproach, anxiety as to their social position, and an insane
desire to come and take care of me. This I have forbidden them to do.
The pain they would have inflicted on themselves, dear souls, would have
far outweighed the comfort I might have gained from their ministrations.
Then I have had piteous letters from Dale.

". . . Your telegram reassured me, though I was puzzled. Now I get a
letter from Lola, telling me it's all off--that she never loved me--that
she valued my youth and my friendship, but that it is best for us not to
meet again. What is the meaning of it, Simon? For Heaven's sake tell me.
I can't think of anything else. I can't sleep. I am going off my
head. . . ."

Again. ". . . This awful newspaper report and your letter of
explanation--I have them side by side. Forgive me, Simon. I don't know
what to believe, where to turn. . . . I have looked up to you as the
best and straightest man I know. You must be. Yet why have you done
this? Why didn't you tell me she was married? Why didn't she tell me? I
can't write properly, my head is all on a buzz. The beastly papers say
you were living with her in Algiers--but you weren't, were you? It would
be too horrible. In fact, you say you weren't. But, all the same,
you have stolen her from me. It wasn't like you. . . . And this awful
murder. My God! you don't know what it all means to me. It's breaking my
heart. . . ."

And Lady Kynnersley wrote--with what object I scarcely know. The
situation was far beyond the poor lady's by-laws and regulations for the
upbringing of families and the conduct of life. The elemental mother
in her battled on the side of her only son--foolishly, irrationally,
unkindly. Her exordium was as correct as could be. The tragedy shocked
her, the scandal grieved her, the innuendoes of the Press she refused to
believe; she sympathised with me deeply. But then she turned from me
to Dale, and feminine unreaso