ngine of his tumult, it would burst
its bonds and to her. He struck his hand upon the desk. He said aloud,
"Yes! Yes!" He remembered his words, "If ever you feel you can't bear
it, tell me.--Tell me."

VI

He began to write plans to her. He would come to London to-morrow....
She should come to the station if she could; if not, he would be at the
Great Western Hotel. She would telephone to him there and they could
arrange to meet and discuss what they should do.... He would like to go
away with her directly they met, but there were certain things to see
to. He wrote, "But I can only take you--"

His pen stopped. Familiar words! He repeated them to himself, and their
conclusion and their circumstance appeared and stood, as with a sword,
across the passage of his thoughts. "But I can only lead you downwards.
I cannot lead you upwards ..."

As with a sword--

He sat back in his chair and gazed upon this armed intruder to give it
battle.

VII

The morning passed and the afternoon while still he sat, no more moving
than to sink lower in his seat as the battle joined and as he most
dreadfully suffered in its most dreadful onsets. Towards five o'clock he
put out his hand without moving his position and drew towards him the
letter he had begun. The action was as that of one utterly undone. He
very slowly tore it across, and then across again, and so into tiniest
fragments till his fingers could no more fasten upon them. He dropped
his arm away and opened his hand, and the white pieces fluttered in a
little cloud to the floor.

Presently he drew himself up to the table and began to write, writing
very slowly because his hand trembled so. In half an hour he blotted the
few lines on the last sheet:

"...So, simply what I want to do is to let our step--if we take it--be
mine, not yours. We shall forget absolutely that you ever wrote. It's as
though it had never been written. On Tuesday I will write and ask you,
'Shall I come up to you?' So if you say 'Yes' the action will have been
entirely mine. It will start from there. This hasn't happened. And
during these days in between, just think like anything over what I've
said. Honour can't have any degree, Nona, any more than truth can have
any degree: whatever else the world can quibble to bits it can't
partition those: truth is just truth and honour is just honour. And a
marriage vow is a pledge of honour like any other pledge of honour, and
if one breaks it one breaks