I incline to the opinion of
Bill Chevenix, to whom he showed it. "Nevile, old chap," he said, "you
take her on any terms. You've no idea how set up you'll feel by everybody
saying you've done the square thing. I tell you frankly that she's too
good for you. Look how she's shaped in Charles Street! As if she'd been
born to it. And never once--never once--allowed to anybody that she's been
in the wrong. Not to a soul. And neither you nor I believe that she has--
nor did old Dosshouse, or whatever his name was." Ingram knew quite well
to whom he so airily referred.
"I shall have landed that chap once for all, anyhow," he said.
"Landed him!" cried the other. "Why, bless you, didn't you know? He landed
himself two years after you did. He's married."
"Married, is he?" Ingram asked, not thinking of Senhouse in particular.
"Who did he marry?"
"He married a rather pretty woman, a widow, a Mrs. Germain."
Ingram looked sharply up. "I'll take my oath he didn't. I met her the
other day. She's Mrs. Duplessis."
Chevenix stared at him. "Why, I know the chap. Where did you meet her?
Where do they live?" he asked his friend.
But Ingram had other things to think of, and returned to his letter.
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