andon the consideration of the whole matter for the
present; it told him that the probability of his meeting the Duchessa was
so extraordinarily remote, that it was not worth while torturing his mind
with considerations of what line of action he would take should the
emergency arise. Should it do so, he could act then as his conscience
prompted.

He found himself replying to this voice, speaking almost stubbornly. He
had got to fight the matter out now, he declared. He had got to decide
absolutely definitely what course of action he intended to pursue, should
the emergency he feared arise. He was not going to leave matters to
chance and be surprised into saying or doing something he might either
way afterwards regret. He knew the danger of not making up his mind
beforehand. To which the loud voice responded with something like a
sneer, telling him to have it his own way. And then it remained mockingly
silent, while another and more insidious voice began to speak.

The insidious voice told him quite gently that this emergency might
indeed arise; it pointed out to him the quite conceivable events that
might occur from it; it assured him that it had no possible desire that
he should break his promise in any way. He was not to dream of giving any
explanation to the Duchessa, but that he would owe it to himself, _and to
her_, to give her the faintest hint that at a future date he _could_ give
her an explanation. That was all. There would be no breaking of his
promise. She could not possibly even guess at what that explanation might
be. She would merely realize that _something_ underlay the present
appearances.

The proposition sounded perfectly reasonable, perfectly just. His own
common sense told him that there could be no harm in it. It was the
rightful solution of the difficulty, arrived at by silencing that first
loud voice,--the voice which had clearly wished him to abandon all
consideration of the matter, that he might be surprised into giving a
full explanation of the situation.

Antony drew a long breath of relief.

After all, he had been torturing himself needlessly. She herself had
spoken of trust. Should that trust totter for an instant, would not the
faintest possible hint be sufficient to re-establish it on a firm basis?

With the thought, the little square of casement window came back once
more to his vision. He saw through it an old-fashioned rose bush of
crimson roses in the garden; he heard a bird twit